Beer, Wurst, und Pasta
by IndianaFerbDragon
Summary: Germany going through life with the other countries, a masquerade ball (held by America), a crush on Italy (wink wink) and just general life. Review stinks, story is better XD. rated T for swear words and later chapters. Germany/Italy hinted at and maybe a little more (wink wink). chapters mostly 500-800 words, very shortness; you have been warned
1. The Guest

**a/n: the first paragraph is written weird, sorry 'bout that. also, the _italicized_ parts are Germany's thoughts. Enjoy!**

* * *

Italy brought over old vinyls to play on the old record player kept in the ballroom of Germany's house. While he played with it, Germany had gone to find his own old records. Returning with only one record, the blond found Italy waltzing around the room. Suddenly embarrassed, he cleared his throat loudly. Italy, unfazed, spun on his heel and ran to the taller country, laughing and singing as he went. He grabbed Germany's left hand with his right while pulling Germany's other hand to his waist. Without missing a beat, Italy placed his left hand on his friend's shoulder and began to waltz. At Germany's horrified look, he giggled and said that America was having a masquerade ball at Britain's place, and there was dancing. Germany opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say; Italy leaned forward and asked breathily, "Would you like to go with me?"

*Hetalia!*

With a start, Germany woke up. _What the hell was that? _He glanced around his dark room and checked the grandfather clock in the corner for the time. It began to chime four o'clock; two hours before his alarm was set for. He sighed. This was not the first time he had woken up from a strange dream involving Italy. Unfortunately, despite having asked the other countries (not Italy) for help, he still had no idea what the dreams meant.

His sharp blue eyes closed for a moment, but opened again when he realized he wouldn't be sleeping anymore that night. With a heaving sigh, Germany pushed back his bedsheets and sat up. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. As he dressed, he thought about the dreams. _Maybe I _am _gay, like that dummkopf of an older brother of mine often teases._ He pulled a blue cap over his messy hair, and walked to the kitchen, too distracted to put on a jacket over his black tank top or shoes on his bare feet.

Walking across the cool tiled floor, he noticed a box of tea sitting on the counter. Scrawled across the top was "Hoping this will calm your nerves. Don't worry, I didn't spike it with opium. – England". Germany inspected the box; it was filled with jasmine teabags. _May as well try it. _He carried it to the stove, got out a mug and put a bag in, then searched his cupboards for a kettle. Finding an old black one, he filled it with water and placed it on a burner. Grabbing a chair, he settled his muscular form in the middle of the kitchen to wait for the water to boil.

*Hetalia!*

Germany began to doze off as he waited. The kettle began to shrill loudly, startling him. Dummkopf_. Sleeping on the watch?_ He smiled to himself and poured the water into his mug. A soft flowery aroma floated from the tea, seeping into him.

He took a quick sip, unsure if he'd like it. To his surprise, the taste was sweet and soothing. For the next hour or so, he sat uncharacteristically quiet. Around five fifteen, a cup and a half later, Germany decided he would try to sleep until six.

He quickly washed the kettle and the mug, as well as the counter and stovetop. Leaving everything to air dry, he walked back into his bedroom, pulling off his shirt and cap as he walked. The country left the lights out and climbed back into bed.

*Hetalia!*

*Bleep* *Bleep* *Bleep*

Germany's alarm blared sharply, jolting him out of sleep. He leaned over and pushed the 'off' button, then sat up and pulled back his bedsheets. Lying in bed next to him, still sound asleep, was Italy, who was woken rudely by a yell and "What the hell are you doing here?!"


	2. Pasta and Americans

With a terrified scream, Italy leaped up and pulled a white flag from his yellow night shorts. As he waved it, he babbled "I'm just sleeping! Don't eat me!" shrilly.

"Why are you here then?! In mien bed…"

Italy immediately calmed and said "I wanted to make you a special pasta breakfast! Romano didn't want it, so I came here instead!" The Italian clapped joyfully, unaware of the slight twitch in Germany's left eye. _There goes mien egg-and-brat wurst breakfast…_

Germany sighed. "Fine. But clean up after yourself!" he called after his enthusiastic friend.

*Hetalia!*

As expected, Italy left a royal mess in the kitchen. After breakfast, he was recruited into helping Germany clean, but after the taller of the two had tripped over the other multiple times, he was banished to the couch in the living room. Minutes later, Germany emerged from the kitchen smelling like bleach.

Before either country could say a word, a loud, church-bell like *bong* came from the general direction of the door, followed almost immediately by another *bong*. Waving a white flag, Italy cowered into the cushions while Germany rolled his eyes and went to answer the door. _He's way too skittery. _Standing on the stoop was America, dressed in a fancy grey trench coat. The minute the door opened, he started talking. "Hey dude! What's up?"

Germany just had time to say "uhh" before America walked in, pulled off his coat, and handed a thick envelope to his dumbstruck friend.

"Great to hear! So if you're not doing anything on Saturday, February 15th, you should totally go to my party! Like everyone's gonna be there!" He dropped his coat in the middle of the floor and walked into the living room. "Hey Italy! 'Sup? Smells good in here, did you just get done cooking?"

_Ugh. That filthy coat on mien clean floor. _Germany put the coat on an empty hook and followed his uninvited guest.

*Hetalia!*

While Italy and America discussed trivial and somewhat goofy things, Germany inspected the envelope. Across the front, in black loopy lettering was 'You're Invited'. The back was sealed in a red wax eagle. _Trust America to go over-the-top. _He broke through the seal, pulled out a formal looking paper stating 'Masquerade Ball' at the top, followed by a date and time, and England's house address.

"So, yeah dude, you should totally come over! Bring a date too, 'cuz it's also a Valentine's Day dance!"

"Yay! Is there going to be pasta?" Italy asked.

"Of course! Well I gotta get going, gotta get all these invites out y'know!" America got up and Italy followed him to the door like a little puppy. "See ya there!" He slammed the door behind himself.

Italy ran back to Germany and bounced on the couch.

"Germany" he sang, "Can you help me get a date?"

_He wants me to what?!_

*Hetalia!*

It was noon before Germany managed to remove Italy from his house. Once the exuberant country was gone, he made a cup of England's tea and sat down on the couch where Italy had been sitting previously. He thought about the request Italy had made. Obviously when America said date, he meant a female country. But who would willingly go with Italy? The dumkopf was too timid and tended to be annoying. _He _is _rather cute though, which should help his situation..._

The trouble would be finding a date for himself, considering he didn't have many friends, much less female ones. He would have to ask for help, probably from *shudder* France…


	3. Talking With An Invisble Country

France had just finished preparing maple crepes for a light afternoon snack when the phone rang. 'Ah, pour-quoi must I be interrupted before a simple meal?' he thought, flipping his long blond hair out of his eyes. He considered just letting it ring, but hell on any country who thought of him as inhospitable; he glided over to the phone and answered with a quick "Allo?"

"Uh. Gutentag. Um. It's Germany…"

"Bonjour monsieur Germany! Now, what can I do for you?"

"Um. I. Uh… need… your… help." _Say the words. It's only froggy France._

"Ah so the great Germany has requested my assistance, non?" France grinned, flashing his pearl white teeth at a passing maid (who blushed and giggled). "Quel can I do for you?"

Germany took a deep breath. "I need to… find a date… for Italy." He inwardly prayed that France wouldn't guess the other half of his problem.

"Oui I can help with that! Mere child's play. Is there anything else?"

_Damn. _"… Ja. I need a date too…"

"America's little masquerade ball, non? He is very extravagant. Moi, I am going single for the evening, for the ladies." Germany didn't need to see the country to know he was winking. After a slight pause, France asked "Would you come over for an afternoon meal? We can discuss your, how shall we say, situation, over crepes?"

"Ja."

*Hetalia!*

Germany entered France's house through a back door; he didn't want to be seen in the presence of an 'enemy'. France welcomed him warmly, with a hint of arrogance at having finally found Germany's weakness. The two sat down at a long oak table with only the first seats across from each other set. A pretty maid brought out a silver plate, placed it between them, glanced at Germany and ran back to the kitchen. France stabbed a crepe and lightly put it on Germany's plate.

"So have you got any ideas for Italy?" he asked companionably.

"Nien. I was hoping you would…?"

"Hmm."

They sat in silence as they began to eat.

"Might I suggest you ask Canada for help?"

Germany nearly chocked on his crepe. "The invisible country? Why?!"

France shrugged nonchalantly, "He knows the states, some are cute. But America is tres overprotective of them." He got a strange look in his eyes.

Awkwardly, Germany excused himself and left.

*Hetalia!*

Back at his house, Germany walked into his living room to find Prussia seated comfortably on the couch.

"Mien bruder! How awesome of you to come in!" the pompous older country exclaimed.

"Gutentag." Germany stomped off to the kitchen. Prussia laughed and followed after him.

"Who are you inviting to the ball?" he questioned.

"That is the least of mien worries right now." Germany sighed. "Italy needs a date too." Under his breath, he added "dummkopf."

"Well! The awesome doesn't normally like to help others, but maybe just this-"

"Where is Canada?"

Prussia gave him a shocked look. "Who?"

"Don't play dummkopf with me! Where is Canada?!" Germany seemed about to explode.

"He's at America's house. But why-"

Germany ran out of the kitchen.

*Hetalia!*

_This is so humiliating…_

Germany knocked on America's door. Luckily, Canada answered it.

"H-hello Mr. Germany. W-what can I do for you?" he stuttered.

"I would like your help in finding a date for Italy to America's ball." _Canada is much easier to talk to than France._

"W-well, Maine has been c-crushing on Italy for quite s-some time now. Would y-you like to come in? I can introduce you t-to her."

He opened the door further, and Germany stepped in, murmuring "danke" as he did.

Canada led him up a long flight of stairs. "Sorry f-for the walk, but as you know America is v-very protective of his states." Germany just nodded.

Leaving the guest in the hallway, Canada tapped quietly on a door to the left. A cheerful, black haired girl peeked out curiously. "H-hi Maine. Mr. G-germany wanted to talk to you."

She gasped slightly, causing Canada to jump back. "O. m. g. Gimme just a minute!"

As Canada returned to Germany, the state quickly walked into the hall. Her black hair was braided, she was wearing a pink plaid shirt over faded blue jeans and no shoes or socks. Germany couldn't help but stare, only for a second.

"Maine, this is M-mr. Germany." Canada introduced them. They shook hands.

"I heard you like Italy." _Too damn straight forward…_

She blushed, and said "Yeah, I do."

"Would you like to go to America's masquerade ball with him?"

* * *

**a/n: sorry if they seem a little ooc, this is my first Hetalia fic so I'm trying my best**


	4. Italy Is Not Prepared

To say that the dark-haired state was excited was a major understatement; she squealed and began a little dance in the hall. Her screech startled Canada, who jumped behind Germany. Maine rushed forward and hugged both men quickly before asking, "How will this happen? Father said we weren't supposed to go." Quite suddenly, her face was a mask of sadness.

"Uh… Canada?" Germany looked to the invisible country for help.

He tugged at his shirt, then said "Well, m-maybe you and Italy can g-get acquainted first?"

Maine's green eyes lit up. "Great! When?" _This is getting too complicated…_

"I'll talk with Italy. Does tomorrow work for you?" Germany quickly cut in.

The state blushed. "Sure. But uncle Canada, you gotta help me get out of the house!" She grinned while Canada spluttered.

*Hetalia!*

Once the events of the day had ended, it was nearly six o'clock. Germany returned home, finding Prussia exactly where he had left him: in the kitchen, looking for food.

"Bruder! How come you have nothing awesome here to eat? And why do you have tea from England? Not awesome." Prussia winked at Germany and tossed the box of tea to him.

Slightly flummoxed, the blond nearly spilled the contents of his box. "Must you go through the cupboards? I've got bauern and brat wurst in the fridge."

"Awesome! Danke bruder!" The older of the two turned and immediately raided the fridge. Without turning back, he asked "So where were you again?"

"With Canada."

"Who?" Prussia giggled, enjoying the cloud of anger forming over his brother's head.

Germany sighed. "Nien. We are not playing this game."

A silence settled between them, broken only by the sizzle of brat wurst being fried on the stove.

"Who are you taking to the dance?" Prussia asked, uncharacteristically quiet.

"That is a very good question."

*Hetalia!*

Seven thirty saw Germany trying desperately to reach Italy via the phone. Romano had picked up, and refused to pass the call on until he knew what was going on. Eventually, Germany was saved by Italy pushing his brother out of the way.

"Hiya Germany!"

"Hi Italy. I have a surprise date for you."

"Really?! Who?!" The shock was clear in his voice.

"A state of America's. You're going to lunch with her tomorrow."

He gave a happy cry. "Who is it!"

"Nien, I won't spoil the surprise." _If Prussia could hear, he'd say I was flirting…_

"What if America finds out?!" Italy whined, as if just realizing the implications.

With a sigh, Germany explained "He'll come after you with a shot gun, and I'll run him over with a tank for you."

"Aw, really?! Yay! Thanks Germany!" An alarm began going off in the background, followed by Romano yelling for Italy about burnt pasta. "Gotta go! See you tomorrow!"

Before Germany could reply, the country had hung up.

*Hetalia!*

Barely fifteen minutes later, the phone began ringing wildly. Prussia reached it first. "Gutentag. *silence* Italy? Awesome! *silence* You want to speak with mien bruder? Fine…" The silver-haired country handed the phone to Germany with a questioning look.

"Germany!" Italy cried. "I can't go on a date with a state!"

"Uh. Why not?" _Mien Gott… Just stay calm._

"I don't know how to talk to girls!"

"You had no trouble with Hungary!" Germany yelled, completely forgetting about staying calm.

"But I didn't need to date her! Help me!"

"Italy. *sigh* Take a deep breath." He listened to Italy pant on the other end of the line, then yelled "And put away those gott damned flags! She's a girl, not the enemy!"

Italy squeaked in fear, surprised that Germany had heard the flag.

"What do I wear on a date? What do I say? What do I do?" were some of the next things that raced from his mouth, but Germany couldn't catch the others because of the speed at which Italy spoke.

"Would you feel better if I came with you?" _Dummkopf! Why'd you suggest that?! _

"Please!" The relief was too plain in Italy's voice. Germany groaned.


	5. The First Date

At nine the next morning, Germany was waiting on Italy's doorstep. He had been standing there for a few minutes before a bleary-eyed Italy opened the door. Yawning, he gestured for Germany to come in; he was too nervous to talk.

The brown-haired country was still in his pajamas, but he had a light scent of pasta surrounding him like a cloud. Germany breathed in deeply, subconsciously soaking up the smell.

"Hiya Germany!" Italy squeaked.

"Gutentag," Germany replied gruffly. "Do you have your clothes ready?"

"Eh… no not really. I thought you could help me!" His voice returned to its usual perky sound by the end of the statement.

Germany sighed and nodded. Italy skipped down the hall to his room and jumped over the door jam. Slightly less enthusiastically, Germany followed him. The shorter country grabbed a simple blue jacket and white t-shirt from a messy dresser and presented them ceremoniously to Germany.

"Is this good?" he chirped.

Not wanting to hurt his friend, but disliking the choice, the blond found himself replying, "Uh, maybe you should try for a little more… um… formal?"

Italy's eyes widened. Then he raced to a closet that was just as disorderly as the dresser and pulled out a wrinkled black shirt with silvery embroidered curls across one side. Closing his eyes, Germany said "Let's just go through all your clothing, ja?"

*Hetalia!*

It was ten past ten by the time Germany had found Italy adequate clothes for a first date. Then he had to drag Romano out of the shower so that the Italy could wash up. When he had emerged from the bathroom nearly an hour later, Germany couldn't help but stare at him, if only for a second or two.

Italy had a white t-shirt on, over that was a classy-yet-simple green jean jacket. Under tight –but not too tight- red pants, were tan leather-looking boat shoes.

"How do I look?" he asked cheerfully, flicking back his wet hair. _That annoyingly cute curl still sticks out, even when soaked!_

"Uh. Good." _Dummkopf! Don't say that!_

Italy clapped happily, not noticing Germany's stare. "Let's go then!"

"… right."

The pair left the house and headed for a restaurant called The Weathervane.

*Hetalia!*

Canada was waiting for them. As he showed them to a booth, he explained, "She j-just went to put on some makeup b-before you got here."

Italy nodded, silently waving a small flag. Germany snatched it away, then lightly pushed him to one bench before sliding in across from him. Canada quickly sat down next to Germany, just as Maine walked up. She was wearing a dark blue/light pink plaid shirt, jeans, and brown cowgirl boots that had pressed red roses on them. Her appearance drew Italy's attention, and his jaw dropped. Slightly jealous, Germany glanced around the building.

"Hi! So, you're Italy?" the hazel-eyed state chimed.

"Yeah. And your name?" He jumped from the table and grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it lightly.

She giggled. "Maine."

"Nice to meet you! Won't you sit down?" Germany looked away from them as Italy gestured at the bench. Maine slid in to sit next to the wall, then Italy bounced down next to her.

A waiter with short black hair walked over. "Hello, welcome to The Weathervane, Portland's finest seafood restaurant. My name is Ovid and I'll be your server for today." He passed around menus. "Shall I start you off with drinks?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Beer."

After a moment, "Water." and "Water."

*Hetalia!*

One and a half hours later, Italy and Maine were flirting back and forth and holding hands under the table. The group had finished a steamed lobster and a side of pasta and canadian bacon. Germany was getting restless; he didn't like seeing Italy giving his attention to anyone else. This surprised the blue-eyed country, as he had never really cared before. Something strange was definitely going on.

Canada suddenly jumped up and dragged Germany with him.

"I-i found a date for you too!" the younger squeaked at the annoyed grunt from him.


	6. Russia's House

Canada dragged Germany to the bar area of The Weathervane. Russia and another country Germany didn't recognize were whispering together over glasses of vodka. Slightly nervous, Canada walked up to the scarf-wearing country and cleared his throat.

Russia turned and smiled. "Hello, who are you?"

"I'm Canadia," Canada answered. Before Russia could say anything else, his friend stood up and smacked him lightly. She was tall and shapely, with a slightly messy silvery-white braid down her back. Her eyes were purple, but darker than Russia's, and matched the deep blue tunic she had belted tightly around her waist.

"Hi Canada, is this who you wanted me to meet?" she asked silkily, glancing at Germany; he was staring at her in awe.

"O-oui. Uh. G-germany, this is Antarctica. She needed a d-date too." He looked at them expectantly. "She's a friend of Russia's…"

"Da!" Russia chimed in. "I'd have asked her myself, but my sister Belarus wanted me to go with her."

"Well. G-gutentag," Germany stuttered, too distracted by Antarctica to really focus on his words.

To his immense relief, she laughed and smiled at him.

*Hetalia!*

Later that day, Germany found himself sitting with an arm around Antarctica on a couch in front of Russia's television watching the Olympics. It was Maine's idea to go over to Russia's house and watch the opening ceremony, so naturally Germany had to tag along. Russia was just glad that they weren't afraid of him, at least for the time being.

While the various athletes walked to their seats, Maine had managed to convince her impromptu boyfriend that snuggling was a good idea and not scary or flag-worthy. Antarctica had a hand on Germany's knee. Russia sat back and watched cheerfully as Germany slowly stopped paying attention to Italy and focusing more on the pretty country next to him.

She had just complimented the blond on his athletes' excellent choice of colors for their jackets, and Germany felt his face heating up. Quite suddenly, she leaned over and kissed him. Although the kiss surprised him, he quickly responded, not noticing Italy's somewhat startled look.

Minutes later, Prussia walked in with an amused look, followed by Romano, who seemed very pissed off.

"C'mon bastard, time to go." Romano glared at his brother, ignoring completely the gasp from Maine as Italy stood up suddenly.

He took her hand and helped her up, saying that it was wonderful to meet her and he was sorry for having to leave her so soon. She nodded. Neither Germany nor Antarctica looked up while the three countries left, or when Russia took Maine into a different room.

*Hetalia!*

"Good job," Russia said the Maine, handing her a glass.

She smiled softly. "But how can they be so blind? It's bad enough that Italy's too shy, but did you need to mix in Antarctica?"

"She knows what to do, don't worry about her."

*Hetalia!*

Prussia drove the italian brothers to their house in silence. He and Romano had been waiting for Italy to text one of them. Everything had gone according to Russia's plan, almost down the exact time. And Italy and Germany didn't suspect a thing, which made the whole ploy both easier and more difficult to pull off.

Before Prussia had a chance to park the car, Italy jumped out and ran into the house. Romano moved from the back seat to sit shotgun next to Prussia.

"I hope you and that russian shit are happy."

"It's not just the awesome me and Russia, this was America's idea too."

"If my brother gets hurt, America is getting his ass fucked up." He jumped from the car and strolled inside.


	7. Another Dream

Germany kissed Antarctica goodnight before he left Russia's house later that night. It was almost three in the morning before he got back to his own home. He walked into the dim living room, and saw Prussia was still awake. The brothers looked at each other, and Germany had the feeling that Prussia was annoyed at something, but he didn't dare ask.

*Hetalia!*

The morning of the ball, Italy was at Germany's house, trying to perfect his costume with help from him. Germany was still in his pajamas, and his hair was a mess, but neither really cared. Italy had just gotten out of the shower, he had a towel wrapped around himself and his curl was sticking out.

"Germany!" he sang, "I need help with this hair dye!"

_He wants what? Why does that dummkopf have hair dye?_

"Ja, ja. I'll help." The country stepped into the steaming room behind Italy. He could clearly smell the shampoo the shorter country had used as he was handed the dye. _Bleach? Is he trying to be blond?_

Italy had the towel tied around his waist so that he could use his hands to help Germany, but after getting the bleach all over himself, Germany told him to stop. So he stood and enjoyed the way Germany carefully combed his hair.

After a minute, Germany stopped. When Italy turned around, he saw that his friend had his eyes closed.

"Germany? What's wrong?" Italy asked, confused. "Are you feeling ok? Do you need a hug?"

The blond blushed at the offer of the hug, and turned to walk away. Italy quickly flung his arms around him, keeping him from leaving.

*Hetalia!*

*Bleep!* *Bleep!* *Bleep!*

Germany's alarm blared, startling him out of sleep. He checked the time; it was six o'clock, just as it was every morning. He rubbed his eyes, thinking about the strange dream he had had. _Three hours of sleep, it's no surprise._

Once he had run a hand through his hair, he got out of bed and pulled on clothes. Even though it had been only hours after he had been enthralled by Antarctica, he found himself thinking about Italy again. _Dummkopf. You have a date already, he has a date already._

Walking over the tile of his kitchen in bare feet, Germany pulled the kettle out of the cupboard and started a pot of water. He dragged a chair into the center of the room and sat down.

Prussia wandered in a few minutes later, up early for no apparent reason.

"Did you see Russia's opening ceremony, bruder?" he asked cheerfully.

"Ja. Some of it," Germany answered briskly.

"You seemed pretty distracted last night."

Glaring in surprise, Germany asked "You were there?!"

"You didn't see me? Romano and I showed up to take Italy home," Prussia said. "He was upset about something."

Germany's blue eyes grew wide with concern. "He was? I never noticed…"

Prussia nodded. "You were too busy making out with Russia's friend," he teased.

"Uh…" _Why would Italy be upset? Did Maine do something? Wait. What if he's jealous of…?_

The kettle began to whistle loudly. Both men ignored it.

"Did he say what was wrong?"

"Nien. But it doesn't matter, the awesome me took him home so Romano could look after him." Prussia dismissed the discussion, but Germany couldn't stop thinking about Italy.

*Hetalia!*

"Bruder?" Germany joined Prussia on the couch in the living room to eat breakfast.

"Ja? What is it, west?"

"Who are you taking to America's ball?"

"Ukraine." Prussia bit into his wurst sandwhich. "Belarus called dibs on Russia, so Ukraine decided I would be a good second choice. Though why I'm her second choice I don't know, since I'm much more awesome than ol' Russia!"


	8. Edelweiss

Sunday afternoon, America posted on Facebook that the couple with the best costumes would get a prize, as would the person with the best costume on his or her own. A minute after Germany saw that, he received a text from Antarctica asking what they would be going as. She had suggested maybe a mermaid and sailor, based on the german folktale about the lovely Lorelei who would lure men to their deaths. Germany, still distracted by Italy, just agreed.

*Hetalia!*

It was February 13th before he saw Italy again. The exuberant country burst into his kitchen at six fourteen, startling Germany. _How in hell did he manage to be up so early?!_

"Germany!" sang Italy, "Romano has been keeping me locked up at our house and I finally managed to escape!" He was waving a flag and panting. "Can I stay with you?"

"… Ja. Fine. But don't make a mess-" *sploosh* The cup of tea Germany had been making went sprawling across the floor.

Both men looked at the puddle on the tile in a state of shocked silence.

"I'm so sorry!" Italy started to wail.

Germany sighed and grabbed paper towels to clean up the tea.

*Hetalia!*

Around noon, Germany heard humming coming from the ballroom. He put the book he had been reading (Anna Karenina) on a table beside the couch, and got up to investigate. _What is that dummkopf doing?_

He found Italy spinning in circles in the middle of the pale gold-colored room. The old record player in the corner had been precariously put away; obviously Italy had tried to find vinyls to play. Germany left before he could be noticed, and went to the attic stairs.

Up in the attic, he tried to find the boxes of records he and Prussia had listened to when they were little. Under all the dust in the room, that proved to be an impossible task. Irritated, Germany stomped downstairs to Prussia's room. He barged in without knocking, and caught his brother half-way dressed.

Blushing, but not leaving, he demanded "Where are mien records?!"

Prussia smiled, slightly embarrassed, and answered "Are they not upstairs, bruder?"

"No. Where are yours, then?"

"Hmm. I don't seem to remember…" He watched gleefully as Germany's face turned blue in anger. As he pulled on the rest of his clothes, he said "The awesome ones I used to have are in a box on a shelf in the attic."

"Danke!" Germany said, slamming the door behind him.

*Hetalia!*

Germany was covered in dust by the time he managed to find the boxes of records. He carried it into the ballroom, which was empty. _Where did he go? _Spreading all the disks on the floor, he began to search for one of his favorites. Many of the disks didn't have a case, which made his task all the more difficult.

When he found the record, he gave a cry of delight. While he was putting it onto the record player, Italy peeked around the door. The opening measures of music came through the speakers, and Germany closed his eyes, remembering waltzing slowly around the ballroom with his brother many many years ago. Prussia had taught him how to dance before he became 'awesome'.

From habit, the blond held out a hand to an imaginary person. During his lessons, Prussia had made him dance as though he was a girl, so Germany instinctively put a hand on his imaginary partner's shoulder. Laughing to himself, he moved his hand to the waist of his partner, only to find it connecting to smooth fabric-covered flesh. Opening his eyes, he shouted "What the hell?!"

Italy jumped back, surprised. He had snuck up to Germany and was waiting for the best time to jump in and dance. "I don't know how to dance like you!" he cried, searching for a white flag to wave but not finding one.

Germany glared at the shorter country. On one hand, this could be the perfect opportunity to be close to Italy, on the other hand, he didn't want to admit to liking the italian.

"Alright. I'll show you. You be the frauline," he muttered crossly, putting his hand back on Italy's waist.

Italy grinned and put his own hand on Germany's shoulder, while the blond took his other hand.

"Move your feet with mine." Germany began to move his feet to the music slowly in a simple one-two-three one-two-three movement. Italy tripped over his feet and crashed into him; Germany caught him deftly and helped him find his balance. "Come on, Italy. You can do this. Eins-zwei-drei, eins-zwei-drei…"

When Italy could mimic his movements without falling, Germany reversed their hands and told him that he was going to lead now. Italy gave a scared look and tightened his grip on Germany's hand and waist but did as he was told. The taller of the two was singing along to the record softly, and they were both caught up in the music of the one song

"Edelweiss, edelweiss / every morning you greet me / small and white, clean and bright / you look happy to meet me"

After a minute, the record stopped again, but they continued to slowly spin.


	9. Bleach

Prussia peeked in a couple times, but neither Germany nor Italy noticed. Germany showed Italy many different dances: a jitterbug, the Rhinelander, and how to foxtrot. His outward hope was that Italy could show Maine and they would be able to dance well at the ball, but inwardly he was just enjoying spending time with him.

Many hours later, when Italy complained about being hungry, they left the ballroom. Working together in the kitchen, they prepared a pasta-wurst-sauce-pizza-thing for dinner, and neither tripped over the other. Secretly watching them, Prussia hid a grin and snapchatted all the countries in on the plan a picture of the pair.

Germany carried three plates into the living room loaded with the kitchen creation while Italy followed on his heels with three bottles of beer. Prussia took his plate and bottle and sat down. It was then that the magic of the evening was shattered as Italy turned too fast and fell backwards. _Mien Gott! What the hell?! _Yelling in surprise, Germany tried to catch him before he landed on Prussia, who jumped nimbly out of the way. With a loud *pfth* the pasta-wurst-sauce-pizza-thing fell to the carpeting and Italy tumbled backward into the couch. _And there goes dinner…_

"That was awesome!" Prussia laughed.

Swearing under his breath, Germany helped Italy back to his feet and asked if he was ok. Italy nodded, then noticed the massive stain on the floor starting to spread and burst into tears.

"W-what *sob* if it *sob* it d-doesn't *hic* *sob* come out?" he stuttered, waving a white flag quickly.

"It would be awesome if you came with me and got rid of those un-awesome stained clothes!" Prussia said, giving Germany a 'you had better clean this up' look.

"*sob* B-but I *sob* don't have any *hic* *sob* clothes here!"

"Mien clothes are in mien closet, Prussia. Something might fit," Germany said. _Italy. In _mien _clothes…_

*Hetalia!*

Being the clean-freak that he was, Germany had very little trouble getting the sauce out of the carpeting. The hard part would be calming down Italy enough to get him to eat something. Prussia currently had him sitting in the kitchen wearing old army fatigues, but he couldn't get the flag away from him.

"Italy," Germany said softly, sitting on the tiles next to the brown haired country. "We can split Prussia's plate." Prussia gave them a dirty look, which was ignored by his brother.

"*hic* I'm so sorry Germany!" Italy wailed.

Behind the crying Italy, Prussia was gesturing for Germany to hug him. Awkwardly, the blond hugged his friend, and Italy slowly calmed down.

"Now. Will you eat some of this?" he asked gruffly, holding out Prussia's plate.

Italy nodded. Sitting on the floor, they ate dinner, with Prussia snapchatting various pictures every so often.

*Hetalia!*

After dinner, Italy had calmed down enough to ask Germany for help preparing for the masquerade ball. Remembering his dream from a few nights ago, Germany hesitantly agreed. Italy clapped happily and jumped up, pulling his blue-eyed friend after him. He dragged him to the bathroom, where a bottle of bleach was removed from a cupboard under the sink.

"I can't see the back of my head, can you do that pleeease?" Italy sang.

"Ja. I can," Germany answered quietly, trying very hard to forget his dream.

*Hetalia!*

Twenty minutes or so later, Italy was blond. His curl still stuck out.

*Hetalia!*

The group messaging on Prussia's phone went as follows:

**Prussia 18:32: **look how awesome they are together! *picture of Italy and Germany in the kitchen*

**Maine 18:34: **omg u wont believe wut were gonna b

**America 18:35: **their costume was my idea!

**Prussia 18:35: **how awesome r ur costumes

**Maine 18:37: **were gonna b germany&austria XD

**Austria 18:38: **Did anyone besides Hungary and I use an original idea?

**Prussia 18:39: **west&antarctica r going as a sailor&the mermaid lorelei lol

**Prussia 18:40: **HOLY SHIT ITALY JUST TRIPPED AND RUINED OUR CARPET!

**Austria 18:40: **Hungary and I are going as the Phantom and Christine.

**England 18:41: **america if he ruins my house i will kill u

**America 18:41: **dude its just carpet! XD

**France 18:42: **ah austria i am le phantom de l'opera aussie!

**America 18:42: **england dude dont worry!

**Maine 18:42: **is italy ok?!

**Prussia 18:47: **ya, all is awesome over here now. italys wearing germanys old clothes! *picture of Italy*

**Maine 18:48: **damn he's hot….

**America 18:49: **YNG LADY IF I EVR CATCH U USING THT KND OF LANGUAGE AGAIN U R GROUNDED

**England 18:50: **don't be so hard on her….

**Prussia 18:50: **maine u r not w/ him!

**Canada 18:50: **hey guys!

**Maine 18:51: **he is tho!

**America 18:51: **dont tell me how to raise my kids!

**Prussia 18:53: **just waiting for germany to be awesome and clean up….

**Prussia 19:17: ***picture of Italy and Germany eating on the kitchen floor*


	10. Valentine's Day

Germany woke up with a headache. He had tossed and turned all night, mainly because Italy was sleeping right next to him. For once, the blond hit the 'off' button of his alarm clock and pulled the blankets over his head. Italy stirred long enough to yank the blankets back to his side.

Laughing, Germany rolled over and looked over his friend. The curl in his hair stuck straight up into the air, but the peaceful, happy expression on his face made up for the messy hair. With a sigh, Germany got out of bed.

*Hetalia!*

A few hours later, Prussia walked into the kitchen to find Germany and Italy laughing and eating breakfast. The room was a mess, but his brother never really noticed.

Prussia cleared his throat, then said "Happy awesome Valentine's day."

Italy leaped up. "I need to call Maine!" he exclaimed and ran to Germany's room where his cellular phone was.

"You gonna call Antarctica?" Prussia slyly asked Germany. "That would be awesome for her, don't you think?"

The blond blushed and looked away. "Ja. I should do that…" He pulled out his phone and texted her quickly. Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he noticed Prussia watching him with an amused smile.

"What are you looking at then?! Shouldn't you be calling Ukraine?"

With a short laugh, Prussia replied "Mien bruder, I'm taking her on a dinner date tonight, we're doubling with Russia and Belarus."  
Germany muttered darkly and glared at him.

*Hetalia!*

Germany spent the rest of the day avoiding everyone. Italy had invited Maine over to watch movies, and they wasted away the day happily. Around four o'clock, Antarctica stepped into Germany's room. At his shocked glance, she said "Russia wanted us to accompany him, as a sort of triple date."

Sighing, Germany stood up and told her he'd come along. As they left, Italy looked after them, and Maine texted Prussia: omg its working!

*Hetalia!*

The following messages went back and forth throughout the night:

**Prussia 15:15: ** west&antarctica r w/ me&unkraine & russia&belarus. Maine! Update!

**Maine 15:20: **italy hasnt paid any attention to me since they left :'(

**America 15:21: **u better not b there by urself young lady!

**Canada 15:22: **Prussia sent me here 2 bbysit them

**Prussia 15:22: **the awesome me sent canada to bbysit them

**Maine 15:22: **what could we possibly do w/ him in love with germany and uncle canada's right here?!

**America 15:23: **PRUSSIA IF MY STATE GETS HURT U WILL DIE

**Canada 15:24: **nothing'll happen to her

**Prussia 15:24: **canada is too awesome to let something happen to her

**America 15:25: **HE BETTER BE

**Canda 15:25: **you think I'm awesome?!

**Belarus 15:25: **STOP AND FOCUS ON THE DATE PRUSSIA! UKRAINE IS ABOUT TO CRY

**Maine 15:26: **uncle canada's crying…

**Prussia 16:47: **CANADA! ARE YOU OK?!

**England 16:48: **who?

**Canada 16:48: **yeah.

**Romano 16:49: **ENGLAND FUCK OFF BASTARD

**Prussia 16:49: **good. do you need me to come home?

**England 16:50: **go away wanker

**Canada 16:50: **I'm fine. how's Germany doing tho?

**Prussia 16:52: ***picture of Germany and Antarctica kissing*

**Maine 16:54: **OMIGOD ITALY SAW THE PIC AND HES CRYING HELP HELP HELP

**Prussia 16:55: **ok I'll be right over…

*Hetalia!*

"Bruder, I need to go home. Canada's having trouble with Italy and Maine."

Germany looked up, then said "ok" before going back to talking with Antarctica. Russia put an arm around Ukraine as Prussia left, causing Belaus to glare at them. Quickly texting Canada, Prussia called for a taxi to get him home.

**Canada 17:00: **prussia hurry

**Prussia 17:01: **I'm in a cab now. whats going on?

**Canada 17:03: **italy is saying he's useless and crying that he doesn't wanna be here

Prussia ran into the house to find Canada sitting on Italy while Maine tried to wrestle a flag away from him. Striding up to the three, Prussia grabbed Italy by the collar and pulled him into the air.

"Listen to me. You will be fine. You are fine. Mien bruder can kiss whoever the hell he wants. You can kiss whoever the hell you want. No more of this suicide bullshit. Got it?!" he said, starting softly but unintentionally yelling by the time he put down Italy. Cowering into the couch, the brunette shivered and remained silent.

Maine raced over and threw her arms around him, and he hugged her back. Prussia stomped to the kitchen, where Canada followed.

"Ugh. Wouldn't it be nice if they just admitted to each other their feelings?" the silver haired country said softly.

"It's not the end of the world. The more they make each other jealous the more likely one will say something, right?" Canada answered. He slowly reached out and took Prussia's hand, squeezing it lightly.

Prussia smiled, then turned and kissed him.


	11. Masquerade

It was late when Germany got home. Walking into the house, he almost didn't notice Prussia and Canada leaning against each other, sleeping. He was slightly relived that he wouldn't have to talk to his brother; he didn't know where Italy was but he didn't want to know why he had left. Despite being nervous about the ball on the following day, he fell asleep as soon as he got into bed.

*Hetalia!*

Germany woke up to the scent of frying brat wurst. He checked the clock, it was five before six. _Who could that be? _Curious, he got up and dressed quickly.

Prussia was in the kitchen with Canada making breakfast. Canada appeared to be doing the majority of the work, while Prussia stood around giving moral support. _Where is Italy? _They grinned as he entered the room.

"Good morning, bruder!" Prussia called.

"Ja. Good."

At the slightly sour response, Prussia and Canada exchanged worried glances.

"M-mr. Germany? Um d-do you want to join me and P-prussia for breakfast?" Canada stuttered.

"Nien," Germany snapped. _What if he's not here because of something I did?_

*Hetalia!*

America's ball started at noon, but almost everyone was there by eleven. The plan was set, everything was in place. A few minor dramatics (mostly from Belarus) and one costume malfunction (America's wild west boot fringe made him trip) happened between that time and the time Germany and Antarctica showed up.

Germany was dressed in white sailor suit with a light blue trim, and Antarctica had a stunningly sequined blue and gold dress. True to whom she was imitating, she immediately drew the eyes of every man in the room. She swept into the room and headed straight to talk to Hungary and Austria, leaving Germany standing alone as Italy and Maine arrived.

With nothing better to do, Germany walked over to them and complimented Maine on her excellent impersonation of Austria. When he turned to Italy, he was dumbstruck. Somehow, the dyed-blond country had stolen some of his clothes and was masquerading as him. _Why would the dummkopf do -? _His thoughts were interrupted when Maine quickly dismissed herself. An awkward silence fell between Germany and Italy.

"Gutentag," Germany muttered.

"H-hi Germany!" sang Italy, slightly less cheerful than usual. "Look, I'm you!"

"Ja. I see that. Are you implying something between me and Austria?"

Italy began to laugh, and, to his surprise, Germany joined in. The awkwardness left, and all of a sudden the typical american-held ball fell into place. America cranked up the radio and grabbed the nearest girl, who happened to be Ukraine, and began swing dancing with her. The other country pairs filed onto the dance floor; Belarus and Russia, Maine and Italy, Prussia and Canada, France and a random maid.

*Hetalia!*

Antarctica found a reason to leave Germany for a minute, so he looked around the room. Maine had just left Italy to get more soda, so the shortish country was also looking around. Prussia slyly put on a slow song, specifically the same song that he had seen them dancing to a couple days before. They looked right at each other, and, mainly because neither had a partner for the dance, began to walk to the dance floor. Meeting on the edge of the crowded floor, they stood for a moment, both humming the tune. Prussia, who just happened to swirl by with Ukraine, whispered in their direction "Dance!"

Carefully, Germany put his hand on Italy's hip and pulled him closer. The pair didn't notice, but those in on the plan stopped what they were doing in order to observe what would happen next. Maine snapped a picture of the countries as they began to dance together.

At the end of the song, Germany went to let go of Italy when the shorter country leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the cheek. In shock, the blond stared at him. Then, he slowly kissed Italy's cheek, before cautiously pulling back an inch. They looked at each other, not saying a word but understanding everything at once. Carefully, Germany leaned in to fully kiss Italy, and Italy returned the kiss.

*Hetalia!*

Despite the best efforts of the other countries, Germany and Italy remained nothing more than good friends. They stayed with their dates until the end of the dance, even giving their respective girls a goodnight kiss before leaving. Romano took Italy home and Prussia left with Germany, just as they would have had the kiss never happened.

This shocked everyone, but no one knew what to do about it.


	12. World Meeting

_That was a strange dream to have… Kissing Italy? How could that have happened? The dummkopf is too gutless to kiss me… But did it really happen?_

Germany stayed in bed until well after nine thirty, thinking about the ball. He would never be able to look at Italy again. _Maybe the simplest thing to do would be to deny remembering it?_

Eventually Prussia strolled into the bedroom and yanked back the blankets covering Germany. "Hey! What the hell?!"

"The awesome me has come to get you, Italy is waiting to see you," Prussia winked.

Germany groaned, this was exactly the kind of thing he didn't want to happen.

*Hetalia!*

Italy grinned at Germany and held up the clothes he had borrowed. In silence, the blond took the clothes and smiled slightly.

"So. Maine told me we have to talk about what happened last night?" Italy said, serious for once. "I was wondering, what did she mean by that? I mean, there was the ball and then something happened? I had a dream about you though…"

Sighing, Germany said "I have no idea what she means. Although I think we dreamed the same thing…"

"Oh." Italy's face flushed bright red. "Well. Um. Romano wanted me home soon so uh… see ya 'round!" He quickly stood up and practically ran to the door.

_Damn. That could have gone better._

"How long are you going to deny your feelings for him, bruder?"

Germany wheeled around. "Well when are you going to tell Canada you love him?!"

Prussia laughed. "That's different."

"What?!" Unable to say anything else, Germany stomped back to his room and slammed the door.

*Hetalia!*

The messaging between the countries went as follows:

**Prussia 10:18: **WORLD MEETING ENGLANDS PLACE NOW

**England 10:19: **do i get a choice in this?

**Romano 10:19: **THIS BETTER BE ABOUT ITALY AND GERMANY YOU BASTARD

**Canada 10:19: **what's happened?

**Prussia 10:20: **germany&italy are ignoring their feelings…

**Maine 10:21: **can i come too?

**America 10:22: **NO. u r 2 young for this.

**Prussia 10:22: **were gonna need all the help we can get

*Hetalia!*

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

"Alright! Silence! The awesome me is speaking!" Prussia yelled over the clatter.

Half the countries stopped talking while the other half disregarded him completely. This went on for the next few minutes, and nothing was accomplished. Prussia suddenly found a quiet blond standing next to him, tightly clutching a white teddy bear.

Canada took a deep breath, then shouted very loudly "BE QUIET AND LET PRUSSIA S-SPEAK!"

Everyone was shocked into silence. Canada blushed bright red and sat down next to Prussia, who looked amazed at the outburst from the quiet country.

"Danke Kanada. Now we need to figure out how to get these two dummkopfs to admit to each other how they feel."

Antarctica stood up, drawing the eyes of all the men in the room. "I think it might be best if we just let them be."

England nodded, then said "We must've been going at this all wrong. Maybe if we just step away from it…"

Prussia looked around at the room. "Ja. Maybe we should let it be."


	13. Brothers

Silence took over Germany's house. Prussia got out as much as he could, he hung out with the various other countries and took in the different cultures and foods of the world. He spent as much time as he could with Canada, who was always cheerful but there was one occasion when he was crying because America was too busy fawning over England to notice him. This situation took Prussia by surprise, it wasn't like their relationship was exclusive but he hadn't expected the twist involving America.

At one point, Germany walked into the living room to see Prussia and Canada snuggled together on the couch watching a Disney movie. With a huff, he stomped away, startling Canada, who shrunk into the cushions behind him. It took Prussia a while to get him calm again, only to have the villain in the movie suddenly yell into a fireplace about a gypsy girl and scare Canada again. The solution, naturally, was just to hold the shorter country close.

*Hetalia!*

"West! Get up! We have an awesome meeting to go to!" Prussia called into his brother's room. It was seven o'clock but he hadn't gotten up yet.

Germany rolled over, got tangled in his blankets, and fell off the bed. Doubled over in laughter, Prussia ran down the hall while an annoyed Germany chased after him, brandishing a pillow and threatening to smack him. Undaunted, Prussia turned around and snapped a quick picture of the blond in his faded blue boxers. This irked him even more, and, with a burst of speed, he caught up to his older brother and began to smack him with the pillow.

Prussia ducked quickly, then grabbed at the pillow. When Germany turned to keep it from him, he took off to the living room and leaped over the back of the couch. Germany ran in right after him and vaulted over the couch as well, but Prussia attacked before he could land and started tickling him. Fighting with the pillow, Germany managed to block most of the attack. Laughing, Prussia wrestled the pillow away from him and threw it against the wall behind the couch.

Defenseless, Germany tried to tackle the silver-haired country to the floor. Prussia was faster than he expected; he ended up falling flat on the floor with Prussia looking down at him.

"Whatcha doing on the floor, West? Does it make an awesome bed?" he taunted, provoking Germany to grab at his feet. As he fell to the floor, his brother started tickling him for revenge. They wrestled on the floor for a few minutes before collapsing onto the couch, still giggling.

"Bruder?"

"Ja, West?"

"You're the best bruder ever, und ich liebe dich."

Germany hugged Prussia tightly. The violet-eyed country hugged him back, surprised to feel tears falling onto his shoulder. They sat together for a minute, then Prussia pulled back and looked at Germany at arm's length. He was wiping his light-blue eyes, and his bare chest still had the imprints of the rug.

"Ich liebe dich too, West."


	14. Slight Insomnia

The world meeting was uneventful, minus the fistfight between England and France that somehow led to a make out session which led to America beating up France. Italy spent it staring longingly at Germany, who was smiling for the first time in a while, just happy to be near Italy again. Prussia boasted about his awesomeness, as always, trying to impress Canada, who flirted back nervously.

So it was actually a pretty usual meeting.

*Hetalia!*

The following messages showed up on Germany's phone that evening:

**Prussia 19:57: ***picture of Germany tangled in his blankets on the floor*

**Germany 19:58: **HOW DARE YOU

**Austria 19:58: **Well that's very flattering.

**Prussia 19:59: **lol hes awesome aint he

**England 19:59: **wtf?

**Germany 19:59: **danke prick

**Austria 20:00: **Sorry…

**Prussia 20:00: **west&i had a pillow fight

**America 20:01: **england dude we should tots do that!

**Hungary 20:01: **aw austri ur so sweet

**America 20:02: **AUSTRI?! LOLOLOLOL

**England 20:02: **america u'd loose immediately.

**America 20:03: **we should have a world slumber party!

**Italy 20:04: **will there be pasta?

**England 20:04: **it better not be my house…

**America 20:05: **MY HOUSE TOMORROW NIGHT EVERYONE

**Maine 20:06: **can states come too? were already there anyway

**Italy 20:06: **can maine come too?

**America 20:07: **uhhh sure i guess

*Hetalia!*

Germany sat on the tiled floor of the kitchen, waiting patiently for the kettle on the stove top to boil. He tried very hard to not think about the depression that had been holding him for the past few days. _Prussia was smart to start that pillow fight…_

The kettle began whistling shrilly; Germany didn't notice it until Prussia walked into the room, rubbing his eyes.

"Mein bruder, it's awesome that you're boiling water at midnight, but really."

"Huh? Oh shit!" Germany jumped up and turned off the stove. "Did I wake you?"

Prussia laughed. "Nein, but you did wake up Canada."

"What are you two doing anyway?" Germany asked as he set about making a proper cup of tea.

"Watching old Disney movies, believe it or not. He cried himself to sleep during Bambi."

Germany smiled, then said "Poor him."

"Anyway, what do we have by way of hot chocolate? I thought I'd be awesome and bring him some."

As they were talking, Canada stumbled in, still clearly half-asleep. "Oh. P-prussia I don't need anything," he mumbled.

At the sound of his voice, Prussia turned around and embraced the shorter country. Germany cleared his throat and announced he was going to bed now, taking his tea and leaving them in the kitchen.

*Hetalia!*

Germany spent the next hour or so unable to sleep. He read more of Anna Karenina, but couldn't focus; he tried writing, but couldn't think of what to write. In the end, he texted Italy.

**Germany 1:18: **gutentag italy

**Italy 1:30: **hiya germany!

**Germany 1:31: **would you like to come over by any chance?

**Italy 1:32: **but its dark and scary outside at 1 in the morning!

**Germany 1:33: **then can i go to your place?

**Italy 1:34: **sure! but why?

**Germany 1:35: **canada is here with prussia

**Italy 1:36: **are they being all romancey?

**Germany 1:37: **ja

**Italy 1:40: **BASTARD THIS IS ROMANO DONT EVER TEXT MY BROTHER AGAIN

_Well then. Maybe I'll go see what Prussia's up to…_

*Hetalia!*

Germany ventured down the hall to the living room, where his brother was sitting with a blanket wrapped around himself and Canada. They were both sleeping. Sighing, Germany turned off the television. He got the quilt off of Prussia's bed and put it over them, knowing that the room got cold at night.

Getting back into his own bed, Germany pulled his own blankets over his head, making a cave like when he was a little kid. Taking a flashlight, he made shadow puppets against the wall of fabric.

Eventually, he fell asleep.


	15. Slumber Parties Are Bad Ideas

Germany had the house to himself. Prussia and Canada had invited him to go ice skating with them, but he had declined. He wasn't very graceful on skates. While he set about making a cup of tea, Prussia called his cellular phone, setting off the Germany-Hetalia theme song. With a sigh, Germany answered the phone.

"Ja?"

"West! Italy and Romano are here! You gotta come, it'd be totally awesome!" Prussia was clearly pleased with this turn of events.

"Ugh. Fine."

Germany hung up before his brother could say anything else.

*Hetalia!*

"Hey bastard! If Italy gets hurt from this, you will fucking die."

Prussia didn't turn around at the threat from Romano. "But wouldn't it be awesome if they admitted what they've been denying for so long?"

Before Romano could think of a crushing reply, Prussia skated off to find Canada. Italy, who had managed to get his laces into a tangled up mess, called for help. At that moment, Germany walked in. He saw Italy struggling, and hurried over to help him.

Within minutes, the shorter country was sorted out and staring happily at the blond. Randomly happening to glance up, Germany caught Italy's stare and smiled. From the rink, Romano could see them talking, then hugging, and finally kissing.

A moment later, the pair was on the ice, holding hands. Prussia raced by, being chased by Canada, who tapped Italy lightly and yelled (although it sounded like a regular voice to everyone else) "Tag! You're it!"

Italy jumped and knocked Germany over, then took off after Canada. Germany sat on the ice, rubbing his knees. Romano skated up to him, helped him up, and threatened him. Laughing, Germany told him that it would be hard to hurt Italy if he had just admitted to liking him.

Rushing past and yelling "You're it!", Italy poked Germany, who promptly fell over again. Prussia doubled over in laughter while Italy turned around to help him and fell down as well.

*Hetalia!*

Germany invited Italy over for dinner at his house, Italy naturally accepted, and Prussia decided to avoid the house for the evening. From what was generally understood, Italy had told Germany that he thought he was cute, and quite suddenly they were a couple. Canada ended up asking Prussia to come over to America's slumber party early.

And because Germany and Italy weren't at the slumber party, everyone was talking about them in between bouts of pillow fights. Romano had taken to calling Italy every half hour until Spain snatched away his phone and turned it off. Before Romano could start swearing at him, he smacked him lightly with his pillow, causing yet another war to break out. The division of teams for each fight was predictable; there was still a lingering of the old axis versus allies mentality, but Canada was always with Prussia regardless.

Around ten, America made ice cream sundaes for the countries. England had the brilliant idea to have a scary story competition, and the group huddled into a circle in the middle of America's living room. Japan went first, and scared America so bad that he jumped into England's lap. Instead of freaking out like he normally would have, England hugged him tightly.

Next was Canada, and he startled himself multiple times, so he snuggled up against Prussia. After Canada, France told the story of the French Revolution, which was scary to him but not to anyone else, and Austria ended up interrupting him in order to tell his own story. This caused yet another pillow fight, until Russia stood up and began his story.

Everyone listened in silent anticipation. America shuddered and tried to disappear into England's arms, and the green-eyed country knew his ex-colony wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Near the end, a piercing scream shot through the house, making everyone, including Russia, jump.

"D-d-d-dude. P-p-p-p-p-please t-t-t-t-tell me that w-w-w-was a part of the s-s-s-s-s-story?" America chattered, absolutely terrified.

"Nyet. That was not part of the story," Russia said back, visibly shaken and surprised for once.

Another scream resonated through the hallways, followed by the clatter of fifty pairs of feet racing downstairs to find their father. America, overwhelmed, had his states sit against the back wall. Luckily his living room was large enough to accommodate large numbers of people comfortably.

The countries were exchanging scared glances, all trying to stay calm. Canada had his face buried against Prussia's chest, crying silently.

"This better not be a joke," Romano glowered, too nervous to swear at Russia. Shaking his head, Russia tried to stay calm as well. This had never happened before.

Two more screams shattered the silence around them.


	16. Prank Me Later

In dead silence, the countries waited for another piercing scream. They were all terrified, as were the states huddled together against the wall. After a few minutes, Prussia slowly stood up. Canada stood up too, not wanting to let go of him.

"Russia. Let's be awesome and figure out who the dummkopf being murdered is."

A nervous laugh rippled through those in the room.

"Da," Russia agreed, pulling his scarf a little tighter.

Still clinging to Prussia, Canada began to shake noticeably. "D-d-don't leave," he cried softly, pressing himself against Prussia.

"Hush birdie," Prussia said, stroking Canada's hair. "We'll be right back. You can come too."

Canada nodded, surprising the other countries with his bravery. Another scream shot through the house, causing Prussia to yank Canada and Russia back to the floor.

"Alright. The awesome me has a plan, we stick together and walk slowly. Canada, you know this house the best, we'll follow you."

Gulping, with tears streaming down his face, Canada squeezed Prussia's hand with a vise-like grip and led them to the hallway.

*Hetalia!*

The three countries ventured to the front door, lighting the way with Russia's scarf. Prussia felt his phone vibrate, and pulled it out to see America had texted him asking if they knew what it was. Ignoring the message, Prussia put the phone away as three screams cut through the silence. Canada leaped close to him, and he dropped his phone. Russia grabbed for it and knocked it around the corner into the hallway that the screams appeared to be coming from.

Hugging Canada tightly, Prussia looked cautiously around the corner. The dark shadows prevented him from seeing much, but he felt that the first few feet of hall would be safe to traverse. He took the lead, clutching Canada's hand tightly and dragging Russia by the scarf immediately after him. Around the corner, into the next shadows; Prussia picked up his phone and they continued.

The darkness slowly enveloped them. Every creak in the floorboards made them jump, but there were no more screams. Russia's scarf lit up only a few feet around them, so their visibility was poor. Each room they passed, Canada huddled behind the taller countries as they lightly pushed open the door. All the rooms were empty, and even though this relieved them immensely it also made their task longer.

A few minutes later, a blood curdling screech ripped through the air right behind the three. Prussia whirled around, pushing Canada behind him. Another scream, and the room they had just checked became the obvious epicenter. Silence surrounded them again. A floorboard squeaked beneath Russia's feet as he stepped up to the door. He lightly pushed it open, it squeaked loudly. Canada unintentionally dug his nails into Prussia's hand.

The room was empty. There was no one behind the door, no one behind the desk, and no one in the dark corners. Nervously, Canada poked Prussia and pointed at the ceiling, the one place they hadn't checked. He hadn't dared to look up, so he didn't know what was there.

*Bang!* A panel from the ceiling crashed to the floor. Canada screamed in shock and fear as two figures fell down after the panel. Prussia grabbed at Russia and pulled him and Canada back to the doorway. From the cloud of dust, there came a sound of "Damnit you dummkopf! What the hell are you doing?! I told you not to lean so far forward!"

Russia, figuring out what had happened, began to laugh. He reached into the cloud and pulled out Germany and Italy with surprising strength. The two countries, with guilty grins, were promptly chewed out by Prussia.

*Hetalia!*

"The awesome me has found our little 'murderees'," Prussia said, pushing Germany and Italy into the living room.

"I helped!" Canada exclaimed happily.

"Ja, you did, birdie." Prussia hugged the blond tightly.

America looked absolutely dumbstruck. "How did you two sneak in? How'd you know we were telling scary stories?"

Germany grinned childishly, then said "Antarctica."

"It was her idea!" Italy sang.

Antarctica nodded and waved at the group. Exchanging glances, the various ally nations grabbed their pillows and began to smack the three culprits. Prussia took the opportunity to kiss Canada, and Russia sat back and laughed.


	17. Filler 1

**a/n: here's a short little filler chapter to lead into the next big plan**

* * *

World meetings are least productive the day after a slumber party. America continuously tried to prank Germany as revenge for his sleepless night. Italy was falling asleep on Germany's shoulder, to which the blond took very little notice. Prussia and Canada were sharing a bag of maple candy, whispering excitedly to each other. Almost everyone else was sleep deprived and/or cranky. Eventually, the meeting was adjourned.

*Hetalia!*

Sitting outside the meeting room was a tan-skinned middle-aged man. His dark hair was dirty and long, and his tattered white sleeves revealed long, half-healed, infected cuts. This country was an outcast at meetings; no one wanted him in the room because he was mentally unstable in his current condition.

The departing countries either stayed as far from him as possible, or they took extra care to tread on his fingers and toes (America is one of them). Syria never cried out in pain, or complained, but he glared at them, took out a rusty dagger and carved another scar. All the countries knew this would result in the mass murder of more of his people. Technically, the personification wasn't to blame, it was his current leader, but the other personifications despised him anyway.

Today, even America kept his distance. He didn't need another conflict arising when he was half-asleep.


	18. The Flu Strikes

**a/n: schatz – precious, treasure, sweetheart pronounced 'shot-sie'**

* * *

Prussia walked into Germany's house to find Italy sitting on the couch, waving a white flag.

"Mein bruder kicked you at of the kitchen?" Prussia asked, keeping himself from giggling.

Italy nodded, but didn't say anything. That was abnormal for the talkative country, and Prussia decided to investigate. He walked into the kitchen, where he found Germany standing on a chair trying to clean pasta sauce off of the ceiling.

"The awesome me is here!" Prussia announced, startling Germany. The blond wobbled on his chair, but managed to stay upright.

"Gutentag," he muttered.

"Why is your schatz looking so depressed?"

Germany sighed and blushed, then explained "He has been like this since this morning. I kept tripping over him."

"Is that why there is sauce on our ceiling?"

"Ja," Germany said, catching the amused look on Prussia's face. They burst out laughing. Quite suddenly, a horrible blerching sound came from the living room, followed by crying. _Oh shit. Italy… _Germany hopped off the chair and ran out of the kitchen with Prussia on his heels.

A disgusting sight awaited them. Italy was laying on his side on the couch, his clothes covered in orange vomit. The floor in front of him, as well as the entire couch, was also covered. Prussia gagged slightly at the smell, but Germany walked in and picked up Italy carefully. He was slightly delirious, and began muttering in italian before puking up more bile all over Germany. Grimacing, the blond carried him to the bathroom and set him down in front of the toilet.

Germany talked soothingly in german as he undressed Italy, being careful to keep him from hitting his head against anything. The still-dyed-blond country leaned back against Germany, who was trying very hard to keep the vomit off himself. Italy's body shook, and he lurched forward to hurl into the toilet.

*Hetalia!*

Slinking around the doorway, Prussia was constantly being sent for various supplies needed by his brother. After an hour of no puke, Germany carefully stood up the now naked Italy and got him into the shower. Stripping off his own shirt, he tossed the clothes to Prussia with instructions to put them in the washing machine.

Turning the showerhead onto 'warm', he gently began the long process of rinsing off Italy, which was made difficult by an annoying instinct that caused Italy to curl up tightly around Germany's legs. Still talking softly, Germany managed to clean him up.

Standing Italy up again, Germany grabbed the nearest towel, which happened to be Canada's (from when he spent the night), and began to dry the shorter country. He yelled for Prussia to bring ratty clothes and a couple blankets for Italy, who was in a dazed state.

When Prussia returned, he snatched 'his birdie's' towel away from Germany and threw the clothes at him. Germany slid the clothing onto Italy, glaring over his head at Prussia.

Eventually, Germany got Italy settled into a blanket with a pillow. The pale country was sleeping, moaning softly in italian. Before leaving the bathroom, Germany kissed him gently on the forehead.

*Hetalia!*

"Did you need to use Canada's towel?!" Prussia exclaimed when they were back in the living room, which wasn't any cleaner than they had left it nearly two hours before.

"Who?" Germany retorted. "Why the hell did you not clean this up?!"

"You know exactly who I am referring to, bruder! Mein awesome birdie's towel!"

Germany shoved past Prussia and stomped to the kitchen to get at the cleaning supplies. A strange plop sound came from the room, and when Germany returned, he had sauce on his head and chest. Grumbling to himself, the blue-eyed country removed the vomit from the rug while Prussia laughed.


	19. Canada Dry Ginger Ale

Germany took the blankets from his bed and set them up outside the bathroom so he could be near Italy, just in case something bad happened. As it turned out, this was a smarter move then anyone could have predicted: halfway through the night, Germany nudged past Italy to throw up in the toilet.

_And now I've caught it…damn. Well, at least Italy appears to be better. _He gently placed a hand on Italy's forehead and found that his fever was broken. Then the blond country lurched forward again. _Ugh._

Every time he tried to lay down and sleep, bile forced its way up his throat and he had to be fast in order to not be sick all over Italy or himself.

*Hetalia!*

*Flashback*

Italy was calling for help in getting his ice skates tied, so Germany walked over quickly and began to untangle the knotted mess of laces. With an appreciative look, Italy accidently caught Germany's eye. Blushing, the normally loud italian quietly said "Uh Germany… um Ithinkyou'recuteandverynicetomeandIlikeyoualot!". He started waving a white flag quickly to hide his embarrassment.

Momentarily dumbstruck, Germany stared at the shorter country. Cautiously, he hugged Italy. Taken by surprise, but definitely pleased by this result, Italy hugged him back.

"I like you a lot too, mien schatz," Germany whispered in his ear. Italy tensed up, backing away enough that Germany released him.

"Really?" he asked in surprise.

"Ja, really." Germany smiled softly as a huge grin spread across Italy's face.

"Yay!"

Quite suddenly, Italy found himself being kissed, and, instead of backing away in fear, kissed back happily.

*End Flashback*

*Hetalia!*

Prussia woke up earlier than usual and wandered to the kitchen for breakfast. He tripped over Germany's blankets and went sprawling. Looking into the bathroom as he got himself up, he noticed Germany chuckling quietly.

Prussia stuck his tongue out, then said "The awesome me has not fully woken up yet! Uh, why are you in there, west?"

Germany sighed. "I have caught whatever Italy had. It appears to be only a twenty-four hour bug."

"Well, if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask the awesome-"

"Can you go to the store and get ginger ale? Bitte?" Germany groaned, sat up and puked again.

Backing away slowly, Prussia ran for the kitchen. He texted Canada in a frenzied state:

**Prussia 8:07: **west and italy are sick, help!

**Canada 8:09: **what do u need help with?

**Prussia 8:10: **idk where 2 buy ginger ale or how 2 get them better!

**Canada 8:11: **i'll be right over w/ the pop

**Prussia 8:12: **danke birdie!

*Hetalia!*

Canada arrived as fast as he could, only to find Prussia yelling into his phone.

"Your brother is sick, Romano! No it is not the damn potatoes! Or the beer! Fuck you too!" Prussia hung up, turned around, and came face to face with Canada. Blushing, he said "Oh. Hey birdie."

Grinning, Canada held up the ginger ale. "How're the invalids?" he asked.

Prussia shrugged, then said "They are both sleeping."

Walking over to the bathroom, Canada checked on the countries. Germany had his arms around Italy, who was snuggled against the other's chest.

"Things go so much smoother w-when they admit their feelings," he said, going back into the kitchen.

"Ja," Prussia replied, popping the tab on a can of Canada Dry Ginger Ale.

"Hey that's for them not you!" cried Canada, trying to grab the can of pop from Prussia.

With a laugh, Prussia put an arm around the blond and kissed him, causing him to stop grabbing for the can. When he had been released, Canada quickly slipped it out of Prussia's hand. Prussia grinned, his scarlet eyes shining as he watched the shorter country take a long sip of the drink.

"It is so on," he said, rushing forward to steal it back.


	20. Birdie, Bitte

**a/n: translations:**

**bitte – please**

**Non, tu n'aime pas moi, je ne suis pas ton chere! – No, you don't love me, I am not your precious!**

**Je te deteste! – I hate you!**

**-these came from 's translator, I'm sure they're not perfectly right**

* * *

Canada accidently woke up Prussia when he slid out of bed to check on Germany and Italy.

"Birdie?" the silver-haired ex-country whispered, tugging gently at Canada's sleeve.

"Shh, go back to sleep." He brushed away the hair covering Prussia's forehead and planted a soft kiss between his scarlet eyes, which fluttered close.

Seeing that the sick countries were still asleep, Canada walked back into Prussia's room to find him curled into a tight ball, puking over the side of the bed into a plastic trashcan. Sighing, Canada carefully pulled Prussia to his feet.

They got all the way into the bathroom before Prussia threw up again. He lurched forward, trying very hard not to puke on his brother, and ended up being sick in the tub. Canada woke up Germany, who lightly moved himself and Italy back a few feet.

Wiping his mouth, Prussia turned around and grinned at Canada.

"Sorry birdie," he choked out before leaning over and hacking into the toilet.

Sitting down on the edge of the tub, Canada rubbed Prussia's back soothingly. He whispered softly in french, trying to calm him down. When he had managed to keep his stomach for twenty minutes or so, Prussia turned back to Canada.

"Ze awesome me is better now."

Canada grinned, placing a chaste kiss on Prussia's forehead. Faking a german accent, he said "Ze awesome you needs a shower and clean clothes."

Prussia laughed, then turned around again and vomited.

*Hetalia!*

"G-germany?" Canada said softly.

"Ja?"

"How are you feeling? D-do you need anything?"

Germany thought for a second, then shook his head. "Nein, I do not need anything. Just take care of mien bruder, bitte?"

Canada nodded, noticing that it would probably be the best idea to keep the blond horizontal until they were sure he was over the bug. Prussia had stopped puking for the time being, and Canada decided he would get him to shower. Finding extra clothes, he carefully coaxed Prussia into standing up. Working quickly, he undressed the taller country and carefully got him into the tub.

Minutes later, Canada had to ask "Uh, where's my towel?"

Prussia managed a tired grin, then said "I uh… burned it?"

"You what?!" Canada plopped onto the floor next to him, staring in disbelief. "Why?!"

"It had un-awesome germs from Italy… look birdie can we discuss this later?"

"Don't you dare 'birdie' me! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Prussia stared at Canada, not sure what to say. Yeah, he hadn't been really thinking when he had burned the towel to get rid of germs, but he hadn't expected Canada to freak out. Watching silently, Germany sat up slowly, then searched the cupboards for a towel and threw it at Prussia. Canada glared at the floor while Prussia dried himself off and got dressed.

When Prussia extracted himself from the tub, Canada stood up in a huff and started to stomp out. He was stopped by Germany gripping his ankle.

"You realize he's sick and slightly delirious," Germany whispered to Canada.

"Well I'm sick of his germaphobic bullshit! Seriously?! Fucking burning my towel because Italy got sick near it?!" His voice continued to raise in pitch, and he was talking so fast that Germany could barely hear what he was saying. Prussia was completely ignoring the conversation, mainly because he was once again hurling into the toilet.

Germany sighed, obviously annoyed. "Canada?"

"Oui, G-germany?" he answered, his voice returning to its shy timidness.

"He loves you, but is too awesome to admit it."

Canada shook his head. "Non, I think this whole thing is bullshit and I really need to go home."

"Birdie, bitte," Prussia mumbled.

"Non! Don't you fucking 'birdie bitte' me! You don't fucking care enough about your own damn brother when he's puking to take decent care of him! What do you do? You call me. ME! And just fucking once, I would like to be thanked, properly thanked, none of this 'schatz' shit!" Canada collapsed into a pile of red and white pajamas, sobbing.

Prussia shared a glance with Germany, who shrugged.

"Birdie-" Prussia began, but was cut off by Canada again.

"You don't fucking care! Not about your brother, not about me, not about fucking anything. You're too damn 'awesome' and I'm so completely done! Non, tu n'aime pas moi, je ne suis pas ton chere! Je te deteste!"

"Bir-"

"NON! I'm not finished yet! I have more to-"

His words were cut off by a sudden jerk of his body. Germany, realizing what was about to happen, pushed him over to Prussia, who was shell shocked at the outburst from the usually quiet man. Canada made a strange face, then vomited all over him.


	21. Rice

Instead of freaking out, Prussia calmly held Canada's shoulders so the blond would throw up in the toilet without slumping backwards. After a few minutes of nothing, Prussia gently let him lean back. Canada was sobbing, whether from yelling at Prussia, puking on him, or a mix of both. Unable to hold down his own stomach, Prussia lurched forward and vomited.

Every few minutes, Canada would throw up, just like the rest of them had. Preferring to ignore what Canada had been shouting, Prussia muttered softly in his ear, trying to calm him down.

*Hetalia!*

Italy had been woken up from the shouting and was now squirming in Germany's arms.

"Germany!" he sang quietly. "Can I go make some pasta?"

"Nein. You'll make yourself sick again."

"But I'm so hungry!" Italy whined, pouting.

"Go make yourself some rice," sighed Germany, releasing the hyper country. _It's one in the morning, and all he wants to do is eat!_

With a happy laugh, Italy raced to the kitchen. He really wanted to make pasta, but he really didn't want to annoy Germany any more than necessary. Trying to not make a mess, he quickly cooked up the rice. Taking a bowl for Germany as well, he returned to the bathroom and sat in the doorway.

Canada was still crying, Prussia was still trying to calm him down, and Germany was ignoring them. Germany saw Italy sit down, and gave him a confused glance.

"Why are you eating in here?"

"Because I wanted to eat with you!" Italy sang in response. He held out the bowl to Germany, not noticing the slightly green tinge of the blond's face. _It's the thought that counts, but ugh! Food just makes me feel sick again._

"Uh… I'm still not feeling good. Maybe you can save that for me to eat later?" Germany asked.

"Sure thing! Hey can I watch television?"

Germany nodded, so Italy jumped up and ran to the living room. After he had left, Germany blocked out the sounds of sobbing and fell asleep.

*Hetalia!*

Germany woke up as the sun rose, feeling much better. He saw that Canada had finally fallen asleep in Prussia's arms, and both were still covered in vomit, mainly because both were puking up until a few hours ago. Prussia was dozing, but trying to keep himself awake.

When he stood up, Germany remembered that Italy had gone to the living room. He walked over, hoping that the timid country hadn't watched a scary show earlier that morning. To his surprise, he found Italy curled up around a pillow on the couch, with the television playing an old movie.

He sat down next to Italy and fished the remote from under the side table. As he flipped through the channels, he stroked Italy's hair, being careful not to touch the curl. Italy woke up, but didn't move or show any sign of being awake.


	22. Filler 2

Around noon, the sounds of a shower being run could be heard. Germany and Italy spent the day on the couch, watching old movies. Dinner time came and went, Italy made more rice and brought two bowls to the bathroom for Prussia and Canada, but they were sleeping.

*Hetalia!*

*Bleep* *Bleep* *Bleep*

Germany rolled over, turned off his alarm clock, and got out of bed. He dressed quickly and quietly, trying not to wake up the snoring italian under the blankets. Gently kissing Italy on the forehead, Germany walked to the kitchen to start breakfast.

He filled up the black kettle with water and set it on the stove top to boil. As the water slowly started to boil, Germany searched his fridge for something edible. Finding the pancake recipe Canada had originally planned to make that morning, Germany decided to mix up pancakes.

After an hour or so, he had a huge mess. Obviously, pancakes were not the way to go. Then Italy stumbled in, and fell into a fit of laughter at the batter-splattered blond.

*Hetalia!*

Pasta was for breakfast, and right after Germany recruited Italy into helping him clean the kitchen. As usual, this was disastrous, so Italy was sentenced out of the room with a kiss. Italy decided to go back to the ballroom and play more records.

Just as Germany finished cleaning, Canada and Prussia walked in. They seemed quieter than usual, but both were healthy again. Germany escaped to find Italy as the pair started a batch of pancakes.

Italy was laying in the middle of the floor will the record player blasted german dance music. His eyes were closed, so he didn't notice Germany until the blond's arms were around him. Screaming in surprise, he leaped up and started ranting while wildly waving a white flag.

Germany shushed the squealing country and calmed him down. There was still music playing, so once Italy was sufficiently calm Germany pulled him close and slowly started to waltz. Italy followed along, grinning.


	23. America's Big Idea

**a/n: translations from **

**je t'aime et je veux rester avec vous – I love you and I want to stay with you**

**mais sil vous plait – but please**

**ich liebe dich – I love you**

* * *

There was obvious tension in the kitchen as Prussia helped Canada make pancakes. Neither of them were surprised when Germany mumbled an excuse to leave the room. Working together in silence, both waited for the other to make the first move.

Eventually, the deathly quiet got to Prussia and he asked softly, "Mind if I put on some music, bir uh… Canada?"

Canada shrugged. There were tears in his eyes and he knew his voice would shake if he tried to talk, assuming he even got his vocal chords to work. Prussia cautiously pressed the 'on' button of the radio above the fridge. A Rascal Flatts song drifted through the room; the radio was on the station Canada had picked weeks ago. When Prussia didn't change the country station to some random metal one, Canada took a deep breath, and began to talk.

"Prussia?"

"Ja?"

"Je t'aime et je veux rester avec vous," Canada stated simply, without stuttering and looking directly into scarlet eyes.

With a nod and slightly confused glance, Prussia said "But what about what you said the other night?"

"I was pissed off and not feeling well at all. Th-that's no excuse, mais sil vous plait-" He was interrupted by the sudden connection of rough lips on his. Prussia pushed the blond against the counter, fingering open the buttons of the red and white (now clean) pajamas. When he stopped for breath, Prussia said breathily "Ich liebe dich."

*Hetalia!*

Later that evening, the following texts went out:

**America 18:58: **dudes we should tots get 2gether this weekend for karaoke!

**England 18:59: **u want 2 do what?!

**America 19:00: **lets have a karaoke competition!

**Prussia 19:01: **sounds awesome!

**France 19:01: **pour-quoi?

**England 19:02: **yeah, why?

**America 19:03: **cuz watching u guys trying 2 sing pop songs from my country will b hilarious!

**Germany 19:04: **what is the point of that?!

**England 19:04: **WANKER! THAT ISNT FAIR

**Austria 19:04: **We cannot pick our own songs?

**America 19:05: **itll b fun!

*Hetalia!*

The next day found Germany, Italy, and Prussia huddled around Canada, who had an arm around Maine.

"Sh-she had the b-brilliance to copy the list of s-songs America's gonna make us sing!" Canada exclaimed, hugging the blushing state.

Prussia grabbed the list from Canada and inspected it. "Why are these all by Nicki Minaj? Isn't she some sort of un-awesome rapper?"

"I think it's 'cause father thinks it'll be funny to watch y'all make fools of yourself," Maine said with a grin. Canada suppressed a giggle at the horrified look on Germany's face.

"Germany? What's Nicki Minaj?" Italy asked, clearly confused.

"I got this!" interrupted Maine before Germany could respond, and pulled out her iPhone to play some of the songs. As the selected rap began to play, Italy smiled.

"This'll be easy!" he exclaimed, much to the annoyance of Germany.

"What do you mean this'll be easy?! That dummkopf America! How the hell could he do this to us?!"

*Hetalia!*

Canada explained how the list worked: each country had been assigned a song, and the best way to beat America would be to learn the song.

"And, if you know the song, you can m-mock America in the process!" he added, smiling.

"This is so not awesome!" Prussia exclaimed, listening to Italy sing the same song for the umpteenth time.

Laughing, Canada said "As long as America doesn't know he's been h-hacked, it doesn't matter."

* * *

**a/n: don't hate me for saying Nicki Minaj is un-awesome, I actually like a lot of her songs (I love any and all music including rap)**


	24. Super Bass

**a/n: ze awesome me is back, I've been *insert random excuse here* lately, and I haven't had a chance to work on this story! I'm so sorry! Je suis desole!**

**If you're at all familiar with Nicki Minaj then you'll already know that her songs swear a lot. And the next few chapters may or may not support incestuous countries. You have been warned.**

**lyrics from A-Z Lyrics**

* * *

After a few days of constant rap streaming from Italy's mouth, Germany was ready to lock his boyfriend in the basement. Besides the fact that the song he sang was annoying, the shorter country had taken to laughing every time Germany attempted to sing. Granted, America's choice was immensely embarrassing, but at least he would know the words.

Canada, having already known his song due to his twin's previous Nicki Minaj obsession years, was attempting to help Prussia without bursting into fits of giggles. Eventually, Prussia banished Canada to the living room, where the blond decided to call England and alert him to the plan.

*Hetalia!*

That weekend, America cheerfully welcomed the various countries into a small restaurant. He stood on a stage-like structure that was against one wall, and Tony sat behind a massive disk machine, ready to spin the tunes.

"Alright! Listen up everybody! We'll draw straws to see who goes first, and then you reach into this basket to draw a song!" America yelled over the conversing personifications.

Because Maine had purposely rigged the straws, Canada got to go first. As soon as America noticed this, he said softly, "Hey bro, you don't have ta go first ya know."

Canada smiled, shaking his head; he also noticed with amusement that America regretted rigging the song-picking basket. However, when America turned to jump off the stage, Canada grabbed for his sleeve. America thought that was due to Canada's 'nervousness'; Canada was actually preparing to embarrass the hell out of his brother for making them all go along with this karaoke idiocy.

*Hetalia!*

"This one is for the boys with the booming system / top down ac with the cooling system / when he come up in the club he be blazing up / got stacks on deck like he saving up" As Canada sang, he ran a finger down America's chest, causing his brother to blush.

"And he ill, he real, he might got a deal / he pop bottles and he got the right kind of bill / he cold, he dope, he might sell coke / he always in the air but he never fly coach" America turned away, but Canada grabbed his arms and spun him back to face him, and carefully pushed America's glasses back in place.

"He a mothefucking trip trip / sailor of the ship ship / when he make it drip drip / kiss him on the lip lip" Quickly, before America knew what was happening, Canada kissed him lightly. Prussia wolf whistled loudly around a fit of laughter, and nearly drowned out the next words. "That's the kind of dude I was lookin' for / and yes you'll get slapped if you're looking hoe" America was rooted to the stage in embarrassment, and hardly flinched when Canada hauled back and smacked him across the face.

"I said excuse me, you're a hell of a guy / I mean, my my my my you're like pelican fly / I mean, you're so shy and I'm loving your tie / you're like slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye oh" Canada loosened America's tie as he rapped, causing his brother to blush even more. "Yes I did, yes I did / somebody please tell him who the f I is / I am Canada I mack them dudes up / back coupes up and chuck the deuce up"

By this point, America was gesturing for Tony to stop the music asap, while the countries in the audience either laughed uproariously or took videos to later post on facebook and youtube. To his immense relief, Tony managed to yank the disk off of the player before Canada got to the chorus


	25. Starships

**a/n: I apologize in advance for incorrect lyrics, the internet isn't the most reliable source.**

**lyrics from A-Z Lyrics**

* * *

America blushed as Canada bowed slightly and jumped off the 'stage'.

"Why didn't you let him finish?" Prussia yelled, and the question shot around the room like wildfire.

"T-to save time, you'll only h-have to sing until the c-chorus…"

Grinning, Canada asked if he could pick the next person to go. His voice was loud, mainly because the adrenaline from being on stage was still coursing through him. Without looking at his brother, America nodded. Canada called for Italy, who leaped up excitedly. America tried to sneak off the stage, but Germany gave him a dark look and he decided it would be safer to stay where he was.

*Hetalia!*

"Oh oh oh, come fill my glass up a little more / we 'bout to get up and burn this floor / you know we getting hotter and hotter / sexy and hotter, let's shut it down" So far, Italy had made no move to embarrass America, but that was part of the plan.

"Yo what I gotta do to show these guys that I own them / some call me Hetalia and some call me Roman / skeeza pleeza I'm in Ibiza / Guiseppe Zannotti my own sneaker / Sexy sexy that's all I do / if you need a bad bitch let me call a few"

Tony suddenly stopped the music. America had gotten nervous and freaked out.

*Hetalia!*

"I can't control the way I'm moving my hips / bet you never ever seen it like this / I'm a monster on the floor I can't quit / no no it's automatic" This time America's embarrassment was equaled by the country singing. Germany knew that Prussia was taking a video of him. _Well, at least there's a chance the dummkopf up here won't let the music go for too long._

True to the past few times, America had Tony stop without warning, much to the displeasure of Prussia.

*Hetalia!*

The hard part now would be getting America to sing with England. This was planned carefully, so that England would be singing a song that America definitely knew by heart, after which Prussia would jump up and sing a song totally unrelated to Nicki Minaj; the idea was that if America was distracted by England then the others wouldn't have to go through the torture of singing rap. Tony had previously been bribed by Maine, so everything was all set.

America was standing uncharacteristically quiet and appeared to be glued to the stage, so England had absolutely no protest whatsoever when he asked him to stay.

"Uh, would you please help me with some of my song?" England asked, trying to be as natural as possible.

America blushed, then stuttered out "N-no problem bro!"

*Hetalia!*

"Let's go to the beach each / let's go get a wave / they say what they gonna say / have a drink, clink found the Bud Light / bad bitches like me is hard to come by" England pointed at America, cueing him effectively.

"The Patron, own, let's go get it on / the zone, own, yes I'm in the zone / is it two, three, leave a good tip / I'ma blow all my money and don't give two shits" A smile played across England's face as he listened to America finally shake off the awkwardness that had surrounded him since Canada's singing. He held out a hand to show America that he'd take the melody back. America gave an appreciative smile; his eyes still showed some nervousness at this unexpected development.

"I'm on the floor, floor / I love to dance / so give me more, more / til I can't stand" America interrupted with the next part of the verse, surprising England. "Get on the floor, floor / like it's your last chance / if you want more, more / then here I am"

At the shocked look he got from England, America just shrugged and grinned. Together, the sang the chorus "Starships were meant to fly / hands up, and touch the sky / can't stop 'cause we're so high / let's do this one more time / Starships were meant to fly / hands up and touch the sky / can't stop 'cause we're so high / let's do this one more time"

Tony stopped the song after the chorus. France, jealous but ever the matchmaker, noticed the chemistry between the former colony and parent country. America was no longer embarrassed, to him, being able to be this close to England in public was absolutely perfect.

* * *

**a/n: for those who were wondering, these are the songs rapped:**

**Canada – Super Bass**

**Italy – Pound the Alarm**

**Germany – Automatic**

**England and America - Starships**


	26. Roman Holiday

As Prussia got up to take the stage by storm, England and America were knocked onto the floor by an invisible force. From the walls emanated a strangely familiar voice.

"Take your medication Roman / take a short vacation Roman / you'll be ok / You need to know your station Roman / some alterations of your clothes and your brain" To everyone's surprise, Rome appeared on the stage, shimmering like a cloud. "Take a little break, little break / from your silencing / there's so much you can take, you can take / I know how bad you need a Roman holiday / a Roman holiday"

Germania appeared with his elbow on Rome's shoulder, and began the verse "You done, you tight / you suck at life / you don't want a round three / you'll suffer twice / Worship the queen and you might could pass / keep it real, these bitches couldn't wipe my ass" The blond gave a quick glance around the room at the shocked looks on the faces of the personifications. "Anyway, stylist, go get Bvlgari / I am the ultimate Svengali / you, you bitches can't even spell that / you, you hoes buggin' repel that / Let me tell you this sister / I am colder than a blister / 'cause my flow's so sick / and I'm a lunatic / and this can't be cured with no elixir / 'Cause y'all know who the fuck, what the fuck I do / I done put the pressure to every thug I knew / quack quack to a duck and a chicken too / put the hyena in a freaking zoo"

Both apparitions faded out, leaving a stunned silence behind.

Italy broke the silence, crying out "Grandpa Rome!"

*Hetalia!*

England helped America to his feet, and they quickly sat down while Prussia stood and strode to the stage. Before he could get there however, Rome's voice floated through the walls.

"Take your medication Roman / take a short vacation Roman / you'll be ok / You need to know your station Roman / some alterations of your clothes and your brain" Rome appeared on the stage, shimmering like a cloud. "Take a little break, little break / from your silencing / there's so much you can take, you can take / I know how bad you need a Roman holiday / a Roman holiday"

Germania appeared, and stood with his arms crossed as he began the next verse "Witch / twitch / bitch / motherfucking right this is world war six / This right might make a bitch die / and this right here might make a bitch cry / and if you be honest, I'm such a great guy" - at that point, Rome nodded in agreement – "And this what I do when a bitch breaks flock / I'ma put her in a dungeon under, under / no them bitches ain't eating / they dying of hunger / Motherfucker I need / who the fuck is this whore / And yes, maybe just a touch of tourettes / get my wigs Terrance go and get my beret"

Both apparitions faded out, leaving a stunned silence behind.

Italy broke the silence, crying out "Grandpa Rome!"

*Hetalia!*

Prussia didn't move, expecting his vatti and Rome to show up again. After a few minutes, he continued for the stage, only to be interrupted by Rome's voice yet again.

"Take your medication Roman / take a short vacation Roman / you'll be ok / You need to know your station Roman / some alterations of your clothes and your brain" Rome appeared on the stage, shimmering like a cloud. "Take a little break, little break / from your silencing / there's so much you can take, you can take / I know how bad you need a Roman holiday / a Roman holiday"

Germania appeared with a hand-held microphone up to his mouth and began the next verse "Come all ye faithful / joyful and triumphant / I am Roman Zolanski / Come all ye faithful / joyful and triumphant / I am Roman Zolanski / Come all ye faithful / joyful and triumphant / I am Roman Zolanski" He glanced around the room, and noticed Tony taking a video of the song. Slightly amused, he turned in Tony's direction and continued "Talking 'bout me, you talking 'bout me? / I dare a motherfucker to be talking 'bout me / them bitches must be smoking a couple of oc / they want the online, I give them a goatee / goddamn motherfucker you talking 'bout me? / I dare a motherfucker to be talking 'bout me / them bitches must be smoking a couple of oc / ha ba ba ba ga gum the goatee"

Rome smiled and finished with the chorus "Take your medication Roman / take a short vacation Roman / you'll be ok / You need to know your station Roman / some alterations of your clothes and your brain / Take a little break, little break / from your silencing / there's so much you can take, you can take / I know how bad you need a Roman holiday / a Roman holiday"

Both apparitions faded out, leaving a stunned silence behind.

Italy broke the silence, crying out "Grandpa Rome!"

* * *

**a/n: the song that Germania and Rome were singing is called 'Roman Holiday'**


	27. Baseless Jealousy

The silence was broken by America's iPhone ringing. The sound startled Italy, who jumped from his chair onto Germany's lap while the blond rolled his blue eyes. _Mein gott, the dummkopf is still too skittish. _Germany hugged Italy quickly, before attempting to shove the shorter country off of him.

America looked at his cellular device, gave a loud, awkward laugh and all but sprinted out, obviously trying to hide something. It wasn't until an odd sounding wail came from the hall that England raced after his former colony. Sealand was about to follow, but Sweden held him back, muttering darkly.

Prussia leaned around Italy to whisper to Germany, "Maine just texted me, there is something wrong at America's house. The awesome me and mein awesome birdie are going to help."

"What if Maine got hurt? Or what if one of the other states are hurt?!" Italy quickly worked himself into a frenzy of crying and flag waving. Giving Germany a slightly amused look, Prussia slipped his hand into Canada's and left.

With a sigh, Germany nodded and said, "Ja, let's go." But listening to the brunette cry started an awful thought: maybe Italy cared more for Maine than he cared for a certain country.

*Hetalia!*

Germany sat on the cold tile floor in his kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil. He had decided to head home once he made sure that Italy was safely under the care of Prussia. Sure, he regretted not checking on the states, but he had claimed fatigue and Italy hadn't even looked back.

_Why is that italian the source of all mein problems? I finally managed to get real sleep and now this?! What the hell is _this _anyway?! Ugh. What gives that dummkopf the power to confuse mein emotions?_

The kettle whistled, startling him. Smiling despite himself, Germany got up and poured himself a cup of tea, carefully adding an exact half teaspoon to his mug. Somehow, having some form of control over the simple act of adding sugar to tea cheered him up. This whole 'confusion' thing would be over as soon as Italy came home, right?

_But what if Italy decides to stay at America's house? What if Maine offers to have him stay? Canada _did _say that she had a big crush on him…_

Sighing, Germany sat back down on the floor with his mug and leaned against a cupboard. He could hear the grandfather clock in his room ticking loudly, even from the kitchen.

*Hetalia!*

It took Germany a while to finish the cup of jasmine tea. After a few hours, he dumped the soggy remains of the teabag into the trash and went into his room. Without undressing, he stretched out on the bed that Italy had forgotten to make that morning. Just thinking about Italy brought up questions that the blond didn't want to answer.

_If bruder were here he would tell me I'm being a dummkopf._

_If bruder were here, Italy would be too._

*Hetalia!*

Germany woke up with a start. _Something is wrong._

The clock chimed three times; without being aware of it Germany searched the room for whatever had woken him. His blue eyes sought out a breathing outline, certain that he wasn't alone. No one was there.


	28. Italy Is Oblivious

Germany searched the house thoroughly, turning on every light and checking every room. He was about to go back to his room when the front door opened and slammed shut. _Maybe it is Italy! _Uncharacteristically excited, Germany raced through the kitchen and nearly crashed into an exhausted Prussia, who was carrying a sleeping Canada as carefully as possible.

"West! Why are you up?!" Prussia whisper-yelled, trying not to wake up the canadian in his arms.

"I thought someone was intruding, and went to find them."

Prussia laughed at the 'well duh' look that Germany was giving him. Canada murmured in protest at the noise, and snuggled closer to Prussia's chest. "Why would anyone intrude here, west? Everyone knows better!"

Glaring at the silver-haired personification, Germany turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen. A slam came from down the hall.

*Hetalia!*

_Where is Italy?_

Germany wanted to ask Prussia, but didn't dare risk making a further fool of himself. _Damn that brown-haired weak dummkopf! Why must he do this to me?!_

Across the room, the grandfather clock chimed six o'clock.

*Hetalia!*

*The Previous Night*

Prussia and Canada arrived at America's house just in time to see Hawaii being driven off in an ambulance. Italy bounded after them, not noticing Germany's absence. The other forty-eight states were either crying or trying to clean the blood off the kitchen tiles. Some sported gashes in their arms or chests, and a number of the southern states were helping those injured wrap up the cuts.

It took Maine a minute to get over to the countries, and when she did start talking her voice was thick with mucous.

"W-wolves got into the kit*hic*chen, and Hawaii nearly got eaten, b-but Alaska was q-quick enough to save her," she explained. Alaska, having heard his name, looked up and waved.

"W-w-wolves?" Canada stuttered, backing up into Prussia.

Maine nodded grimly. "Thanks to Alaska, H-hawaii should be fine. But we don't know how many g-got in or *hic* how."

She burst into a fresh bout of tears, and Italy put his arms around the state. Canada gave Prussia a look that clearly said 'uh-oh'.

*Hetalia!*

"Hey dudes, thanks for coming over to help," America said, walking over to where Prussia, Canada, Italy, and Maine stood. His eyes were pink and he was clinging tightly to England's hand as though he would die if he let go.

"The awesome us had to," Prussia started, but was cut off by Canada saying "Mon frère, are you okay?"

America made a strange face, as if he couldn't understand the concept of not being okay. All of a sudden Canada found himself hugging his sobbing twin.

*Hetalia!*

"Where did Germany go?" Italy asked Maine.

She shrugged, not sure if she should mention the fact that the blond had clearly said he was going home.

"Why didn't he stay?" Italy pried, slowly working himself into a fit.

'Because you appear to care more about me than him!' Maine wanted to scream, but she just shrugged again.

"He could help us find the stupid-" the rest of Italy's comment was cut off by a massive black shape racing into the hall. Bright cherry-red eyes glared in fear and then hatred as the wolf thought about his options. And then he leaped straight for Italy's throat.

*End Previous Nightness*

*Hetalia!*

"You should've told him, you know," Canada muttered drowsily, clambering into Prussia's bed.

"I would have, had he not stomped off!" Prussia retorted, not at all happy.

"Still. He's your little brother and you need to tell him if something bad happens to his boyfriend."

"I will tell him in the morning, ok birdie?"

"Oui." Canada murmured arround a yawn.


	29. Trains

Before the sixth and last chime of the clock, Germany was out of bed and yanking on clean clothes. Within half an hour, a week's worth of clothes and various other necessities like the box of tea and a toothbrush were packed into a suitcase. Quickly scrawling a note to Prussia, Germany picked up the suitcase and stepped out into the street. The house was silent; the only other living thing awake was Gilbird, who watched Germany leave.

Once out of the house, Germany had no idea where he was going to go. He figured the train station would be the best place, and from there he could pick a place. Maybe he would go visit Antarctica. But first he had to see Romano, just to make sure Italy wasn't there. And if he was there, then Germany would simply tell him they were done. No fuss, no argument. Simple.

Still, a little voice in the back of Germany's mind told him he was making a mistake.

*Hetalia!*

"Prussia! Get up!" Canada shook Prussia, trying to get him out of bed.

Rolling over, Prussia muttered darkly "If you do not leave me alone west, I will tell vatti…"

Canada cursed under his breath and ran around the bed. "Wake up! Germany's gone!"

"Vatti," Prussia mumbled, rolling over again and waving a hand in the air. "He is probably with that prick Austria and the Hungary girl…"

In desperation, Canada clambered onto the bed and straddled Prussia's bare chest. He leaned over, getting as close to his face as he dared, then yelled "WAKE UP!"

Prussia sat up quickly, knocking Canada backwards and off the bed with a crash. The silver-haired personification was on the floor next to the blond in an instant, asking him if he was hurt.

"Non," Canada laughed, rubbing his head. "Mais Germany is gone!"

Prussia froze. "What did you say?"

"G-germany is gone."

"Shit. Let's go." Prussia dragged Canada up off the floor and raced down the hallway to Germany's room, not bothering to put on actual clothes over his boxers. Canada grabbed a shirt for him before following quickly.

*Hetalia!*

Germany stared out the window of the train, thinking about what he would say to Italy. _From what it appears, you are not all that interested in me… nein. You don't seem to want to date me anymore… nein. Um… I think it would be better if we started seeing other people because… um… because…_

After a few minutes of frustration, Germany decided he would just go talk to Italy. Assuming Italy was home, of which there was no guarantee.

*Hetalia!*

"Dear Bruder,

I am leaving for the time being. I will be back as soon as I tell Italy something. Under normal circumstances I would have called him, but this requires face to face discussion. As it would seem, we have come to a crossroads in our relationship that Italy appears to not notice. This is not quite the sort of thing I wish to continue, and that is a fact I must convey to him.

With liebe,

Germany"

Prussia was silent as Canada finished reading the note. After sitting quietly for a few minutes, he stood up and hurried out of the room. Canada followed him into the street, where the silver-haired man broke into a run for the train station. Smiling at the people who gave the half-dressed Prussia weird looks, Canada raced after him.

*Hetalia!*

The train station was hopping with activity, just as it was every morning. Prussia ran into the main office and barged in on an important meeting. The conductors stared at him, shocked to see a country wearing only red plaid boxers and steaming mad.

"Where is mein bruder," he demanded. It was not a question.

"W-what?" the head conductor asked, confused.

Prussia stalked up to the table and put his hands on the edge of it. "Where is Germany. Where is mein bruder."

The various people around the table shared confused glances. Just as Canada came panting into the room, Prussia screamed "HOW IN THE NAME OF HOLY ROME COULD YOU NOT KNOW WHAT TRAIN GERMANY IS ON?!"

Canada grabbed Prussia's arm and dragged him out of the office. "Sil vous plait put this on," he said, shoving the shirt at Prussia.

"But-" Prussia started to complain, but Canada interrupted him.

"Non. I'll figure out what train he's on. Don't worry." Canada kissed Prussia's cheek quickly. "P-put on that shirt, you look insane."

While Prussia glared darkly at him, Canada grinned and walked back into the office.

*Hetalia!*

*The Previous Night*

Italy didn't even scream. It all happened so fast, he had no time to process any terror. The wolf was lunging for him, and suddenly Maine was in front of him and pushing him onto the floor. Claws raked her back as the wolf went through the air over him. She screamed in pain while blood started to pour out of the cuts, quickly turning her white shirt dark red.

The wet nose of the wolf twitched at the scent of iron, and a pink tongue dripping with saliva escaped the confines of his silvery teeth. He stepped forward, and seemed to grin at Italy, who was pulling Maine away as carefully as possible. The state was crying. And the wolf lunged again.

*End Previous Nightness*


	30. Potato Bastard

The second the doors of the train car opened, Germany was on the platform. Carrying his suitcase behind him, he set off towards Italy's house, silent praying that he would be home without Romano. He paused long enough at the gate to set his suitcase down, then headed up the path to the door. Luck was on his side, Italy answered at the first knock.

"Hiya Germany!" he sang, but his voice was less cheerful than usual. _Is it possible for him to already know why I'm here?_

"Gutentag. May I come in?"

Italy thought for a second, then shook his head. "No, you can't."

Germany thought he noticed a slight twitch in Italy's eyes, but didn't say anything about it. Instead he said "Alright. Well. I believe th-that…" before trailing off.

There was a strange look in Italy's face, almost like happiness. This spurred Germany on; he squared his shoulders and continued. "It might be time for us to start s-seeing other countries. Or st-states."

Italy didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. Germany could clearly see the glee in his eyes, and the blond had to turn quickly to prevent himself from crying out in dismay. Somehow, he had hoped Italy would question this, maybe try and convince him that it wasn't right, and therefore prove to Germany that he still cared.

As Germany started to walk away, Italy called out. "Wait!"

Germany turned back, not bothering to hide the hope that was written across his face. Italy laughed cruelly and said "Good riddance, potato bastard."

*Hetalia!*

"Hey mister, ain't this your stop?"

Germany's blue eyes snapped open. The train attendant was gently shaking him. He sat up abruptly, and the attendant realized who he was shaking.

"Holy shit! I mean, good morning Mr. Germany, sir!" The attendant was quivering in fear, knowing what happened to normal people who dared to annoy the country.

"Gutt morning. Danke for waking me up."

Without looking back at the dazed human, Germany picked up his suitcase and left the train.

_That was a very strange dream. Hopefully it will not come true. _He was painfully aware of how the past few dreams he had had were somewhat accurate with future events. _Luckily that attendant woke me when he did._

*Hetalia!*

Canada left the office with a smile, but it left the second he saw Prussia yelling into his phone.

"Romano hasn't seen him yet?" Canada asked once Prussia had hung up.

"Nein. And he had not heard what happened to Italy either."

Canada's face drained of color. "You d-didn't tell him, d-did you?"

"Nein. But he will be calling America to find out."

"Poor America. But now that we know which train G-germany took, we can follow him."

*screeeeeee*

The train whistled shrilly, and Canada took off for the platform with Prussia on his heels. They jumped onto one of the cars just as the train began to roll forward.

*Hetalia!*

Germany strolled as casually as possible to Italy's house, still contemplating what he would say. He swung the iron gate open and set his suitcase down behind it, then started up the path to the house. Hopefully Romano wouldn't open the door, but he had an uneasy feeling that if the older brother didn't then everything would go wrong.

Standing in front of the door, Germany started to rethink the whole idea of breaking up with Italy. But it was too late now, he had to go through with what he started. Nervous, he knocked sharply.

Romano opened the door the sliver, and saw Germany standing awkwardly.

"What do you want, potato bastard?" he asked, annoyed.

"Can I talk to Italy?" Germany spat back, no more pleased at talking to Romano than the italian was talking to him.

"Don't you… how can you come here, and ask about him? DON'T YOU FUCKING CARE?! GET THE HELL OFF MY PORCH AND NEVER COME BACK!"

Germany was stuck in place, he had no idea what was going on. He didn't move, even when Romano stepped onto the porch and shoved him.

"Didn't you here, bastard? GET OUT OF HERE AND DON'T COME BACK!"

Romano succeeded in pushing Germany over, and the blond tumbled backwards off the porch. Standing up and brushing himself off, Germany found himself being punched weakly while Romano screamed at him in italian.

"What happened?" the blond asked, not noticing the punches.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'WHAT HAPPENED'? HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW?! LEAVE! NOW!"

As Germany turned to leave, he almost didn't hear Romano muttering a threat under his breath, "If I catch you anywhere near my fratello again, I will kill you."


	31. Just Missed Him

*The Previous Night*

Showing some pluck, Italy grabbed the nearest object he could for a weapon, and swung hard at the gnashing teeth of the wolf. Realizing that he was wielding an umbrella, Italy popped it open and used the spikey tip as a shield/sword. The wolf, temporarily confused, backed away and plotted its next attack. Italy took the opportunity to check over Maine's back and found the cuts weren't very deep.

All of a sudden, Italy felt one of his shoulders being ripped off. Maine screeched at the blood pouring from where the huge chunk had disconnected with the italian's body. Italy calmly turned and swung the umbrella again, thwacking the wolf sharply on the head. Just as it was preparing to leap again, Prussia ran in front of the country and state and lobbed a knife at the black matted fur covering the wolf's throat. Choking around the knife, the wolf spluttered and coughed up blood before giving one final lunge, which Prussia easily blocked.

It was then that the pain and terror registered in Italy's mind, and he gave a piercing scream before falling unconscious against Maine. Canada ran up with America and England as Prussia yanked off Italy's shirt to better see the injury he had gotten. Wadding up the fabric, the silver-haired country pressed it Italy's shoulder.

"He's losing too much blood too fast, he needs to get to a hospital now," Prussia said, glancing up at Canada.

The blond nodded and started dialing for an ambulance. Maine carefully extracted herself from under Italy and rushed to hug America, who was both laughing and crying hysterically.

*End Previous Nightness*

*Hetalia!*

Germany wandered back to the train station, lost in thought. _What happened to Italy? If it was something bad, why was I not told?_

He got a new ticket and boarded a train for the south just as another train screeched to a stop in the station. Prussia and Canada leaped out as the doors slid open, and neither noticed the departure of Germany's train. Both countries were focused on getting to the italy brothers' house as soon as possible.

To their immense surprise, Romano was already stalking down to the train station to wait for them.

"Did West stop by yet?" Prussia panted, running up to the obviously riled country.

"The bastard just left. And good riddance to him," Romano spat out.

With a groan, Prussia collapsed on one of the benches lining the street. Canada, guessing at what Prussia had just been told, asked Romano if he knew where Germany was going.

"Hell if I know. As long as he's away from Italy."

"Why?" Prussia asked quietly.

Romano shrugged, and answered casually "The bastard has caused too many tears from my fratello. And you're just like him, aren't you? You potato eating scum, you both like to make Italy cry, don't you?"

Seething with anger, Prussia leaped from the bench and went to punch Romano, but Canada stretched out a hand and caught his fist.

"Non, we can't do this now," the blond said softly. Laughing silently, Romano shrugged off Prussia's glares. Muttering darkly, Prussia turned away and started back to the train station. Now that they had no idea where Germany was going, all they could do was take Romano to see Italy.

*Hetalia!*

It was well after dark by the time Germany reached Antarctica's house. Without any hesitation, he walked up to the door and knocked three times.

"Be right down," a voice from inside the house called. A few minutes later, the door swung open and Antarctica greeted him cheerfully. Her hair was damp and leaving wet trails on the back of a short blue dress that she had cinched tightly around her waist.

Her smile dropped the second she noticed Germany's frown.

"What's wrong? Is Italy hurt?" In actuality, she knew exactly what had happened to Italy; Canada had called her the moment he had seen Germany's note.

"Nein. Or at least, I do not know. I went to his house to tell him... something of utmost importance. But he was not there and from what Romano yelled at me, I am inferring that he is, in fact, hurt, or something of that sort. Not that I care, since the dummkopf clearly no longer likes me in any way, shape, or form so I thought it best to end any relationship with him so that he can date that stupid state girl – what is her name? – Maine." Realizing he was ranting, Germany snapped his mouth shut and looked at the doorstep under his black boots.

Antarctica, shocked by how much the blond had said, gestured for him to come inside. "Do you want anything to eat? You must be hungry?"

Germany sighed and stepped into the house.


End file.
